When Fate Smiles
by Fragile Dream
Summary: From the ashes of a fallen city, in the wake of a revolution, Kate's life will take drastic and unexpected turns, its course will be forever altered. Will she finally find what she has yearned for her entire life, or will her dreams be consumed by the flames of a rising fire? Bane/OC, set during and post-TDKR. Rated M for language and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

The alarm clock went off, and Kate Lowry experienced that all too familiar feeling of dread once again. It was 2 in the afternoon, time for her to get up and begin what was sure to be yet another miserable night. She knew this one was going to be especially unpleasant considering the sullen mood she had developed the previous evening had carried over into the present day. She reached over to turn off the annoying device but decided to hit the snooze button instead. She turned onto her left side and promised herself she would rise when the alarm sounded a second time. She clenched the plush body pillow lying parallel to her. She was so comfortable. The sleep she was enjoying seemed like the absolute best of her life until it was unceremoniously interrupted by the awful sound of the alarm. It was no sooner than that last thought crossed her mind that she drifted back into her blissful slumber. She was roused by the alarm twice more, until she finally had enough and shut it off for good.

After some time had passed, she awoke again and glanced at the clock. It was 2:45. She had managed to oversleep for 45 minutes. She didn't have much time to ready herself now; she was due at work by 4, and the commute alone would take every minute of half an hour.

"Shit," she exclaimed as she hurled the sheet and blanket off of her with force and rushed to the bathroom. Her mind raced as she turned on the water, pushed the shower handle, and pulled the curtain across the length of the tub. She was mentally kicking herself for oversleeping yet again.

She showered and brushed her teeth as hurriedly as she could. She made her way to the bedroom closet and retrieved her work uniform: a crisp white button-down shirt, a black vest, a belted pair of black slacks, and polished black shoes. She had despised the uniform since her first day. She wished she had a career rather than merely a menial job that barely made ends meet.

Since she had no time to style her hair, she had to settle for a quick blow-dry and a ponytail. After finishing her hair, she examined herself in front of the mirror. She was 25-years-old, but could probably pass for a few years younger. She stood at 5'7" and weighed around 120 pounds. Her build was slender, and she was blessed with ample breasts. Her complexion was on the pale side, but her face had a healthy glow to it. Her hair was a deep brown, as dark as it could be without being black. She was content with her hair color, but its texture was a source of disappointment. Her mane was wavy; not a healthy, shampoo-commercial wavy, but a messy, unkempt kind of wavy which rendered her thankful to whoever had invented the flat iron.

She supposed she was moderately attractive, but she wouldn't go as far as to describe herself as beautiful. Her narrow face had its fair share of flaws which included dimples and a slightly crooked smile. Her teeth were straight and her nose and mouth were proportionate. She had always thought her eyes were her best feature. They were a radiant shade of green, and she had actually received a few compliments on them in the past. Like most women, she employed cosmetics to improve her overall appearance, but due to her desire for extra sleep that day, she had no time to apply any save a single coat of powder to even out her skin tone. While studying her reflection, she became lost in a sea of disorganized thought, and her formerly concentrated stare ended up a blank gaze. After several moments, she snapped herself back to reality and headed for the door. She grabbed her lightweight pea coat and purse and exited the apartment, doubling back once to make sure she had locked the door behind her.

She made quick use of the stairs, as the elevator had not worked since she had moved into the semi-dilapidated building nearly a year ago. Once she reached the ground floor, she proceeded briskly to the nearest bus stop. After boarding, she dropped her token into the depository and proceeded to search for a seat. Her eyes rapidly scanned the passengers, but she made did not make eye contact with a single one. She made her way to the rear of the crammed bus, only to realize all the seats were full. She remained standing and tried to think about something more appealing than the night that lay ahead of her.

She had been employed at Lancaster Gourmet, an elite catering service, as a server for a little over a year now. She loathed her job for many reasons: the hours were long, the pay was abysmal, her coworkers were insufferable, and the work itself was overwhelmingly depressing. She spent her nights serving fine Epicurean fare she could never afford to the city's upper crust, Gotham's supposed crème de la crème. Municipal officials, business magnates, high-profile attorneys, heirs and heiresses, and occasionally even a few entertainment personalities; all were present and accounted for at these ostentatious gatherings. Each one was exactly the same as the one that had preceded it, night in and night out. And each one served as a harsh reminder to Kate of how much of a failure she was in the eyes of the unforgiving society of Gotham.

As the bus approached her stop, she carefully maneuvered between the myriad commuters. She hurried off the bus and continued her journey on foot until she reached her ultimate destination: Wayne Manor, the magnificent home of the world-renowned tycoon and philanthropist Bruce Wayne, Gotham's wealthiest, most prominent citizen.

The festivities that night were in honor of former District Attorney Harvey Dent, Gotham's slain white knight, a shining example of honor and justice the world over. It was eight years to the day since he had been murdered by Batman, the infamous vigilante turned fugitive. At that time, Kate was a high school student with her whole life ahead of her. It was hard for her to believe it had been that long ago.

This particular gala's attendees were even more prestigious than usual. The mayor of Gotham, Anthony Garcia, was in attendance, as well as James Gordon, the city's celebrated police commissioner. Kate wasn't holding her breath on seeing the man of the house. Although his company sponsored many of the city's high-level functions, Wayne himself was a confirmed recluse. He hadn't been spotted in public even once for eight years. Oddly enough, his last public appearance occurred shortly before Dent's untimely demise.

Kate advanced towards west entrance of the sprawling estate as she had been instructed by her supervisor the previous day. She removed her coat and handed it, along with her purse, to the police officer stationed at the entrance and walked through the metal detector. The cop nodded as her personal items rolled back to her via the conveyor belt. She then quickly made her way to the kitchen where she witnessed her fellow employees formed in a line. In front of them was Brent, her arrogant supervisor, strutting like a peacock with his ubiquitous clipboard in hand.

"Miss Lowry, so good of you join us," he scoffed.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she muttered as she took her place at the end of the line.

"Okay people, we've got a big night tonight. Your performances tonight must be flawless. There is absolutely no room for error. We've been over the drill a dozen times now, so I'm not going to repeat it again; by now, you should know it backwards and forwards."

As Brent continued in his familiar snide tone, it was becoming more difficult for Kate to hide her resentment. He always behaved with an air of superiority about him which disgusted her to no end. She always seemed to have the misfortune of having to tolerate people who were the embodiments of everything she despised about humanity. She interacted with people only when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, this was one of those necessary times. She tried to focus on what Brent was saying, but her anger was building, and she was becoming more and more detached from her surroundings with each passing second. She knew she should be paying attention to the jerk's instructions, but all she could think about was how much she wanted to run away and never come back. If only she could, if only life were simple. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and couldn't help but wish she was someone else.

She was 25 years old. Her life had never been charmed, and although she had a youthful look about her, she had always felt older than her years. The only child of drug-addicted parents, she was introduced to hardship at a tender age. More often than not, she was grateful for the fact that she was an only child, for she would not want another to endure her unenviable circumstances. Nevertheless, she sometimes wished she had a sibling. As an adult, she was unable to recall many details of her formative years. She often wondered if perhaps her mind subconsciously obstructed certain memories as a sort of defense mechanism.

She did remember being well-acquainted with two feelings in particular: loneliness and hunger. Her parents would frequently leave her at home unattended while they ventured out to score their next fix. She remembered falling asleep with an empty stomach more often than not. The family survived mostly off of meager government assistance payments, as neither parent was ever steadily employed. Her father never had a knack for paying the rent, so they found themselves homeless from time to time. They had relocated so frequently that Kate lost count by the time she reached her teens. She had attended virtually every primary school in Gotham, and thus was unable, or perhaps unwilling, to forge any lasting friendships.

Shortly after her 13th birthday, her family was indigent yet again. After her father was arrested on a drug possession charge, both parents were deemed unfit, and their daughter was removed from their residence. Her parents were given countless opportunities to regain custody, the only conditions were that they find suitable housing and prove parental competency at one of her custody hearings. She was continually disappointed, as neither of her parents ever showed up to even one of the hearings. She probably shouldn't have expected anything more from them, given their history, but she still clung to the desperate hope that they would straighten out their lives and come back for her. She remained a ward of the state until the age of 18. For those five long years, she had lived in over ten different foster homes. Some of them were hardly a step above that of a few of her parents' former dwellings. Whether or not they were materially comfortable was irrelevant; none of them had ever felt like home to her.

As it turned out, the transition from childhood to adulthood did not go as smoothly as Kate had hoped. She had performed well in school, earning A's and B's for the most part, but her academic achievements were not impressive enough to earn her a full college scholarship, something someone in her position needed in order to obtain a quality education. She had never participated in any extracurricular activities because of her fierce introversion. One of her teachers attempted to encourage her to take a more proactive approach to her education, but she found the attempt insincere, and she never found the motivation to put forth the extra effort that was required. The bottom line was, in her mind, if her own parents neither loved nor believed in her, she could hardly do so herself.

It was during Kate's senior year when a dark cloud appeared on Gotham's horizon. He was known only as the Joker, and he was an entirely different breed of criminal, the likes of which the city had not seen before and hopefully would never bear witness to again. He thrived on chaos, reveled in insanity, killed indiscriminately, and left a trail of horror and destruction in his wake. Thankfully the mad clown's reign of terror was brief, brought to an end by Batman, Gotham's then revered champion of justice. Just as the city was beginning to heal from the wounds inflicted by the Joker, it was dealt two more devastating blows. Beloved D.A. Harvey Dent was murdered by Batman. The city's hero turned on it for reasons that were still unknown.

On her 18th birthday, Kate was placed in temporary housing until she was able to find a job and an apartment. She graduated from East Gotham High a few months after the handsome young district attorney was killed.

A few months later, the City Assembly unanimously approved the Dent Act, legislation inspired by the courage and heroism of Gotham's fallen son. In essence, the bill bolstered the city's campaign against organized and violent crime. Under the provisions of the act, repeat violent offenders and those with ties to the mob could be lawfully denied parole. As a result of the landmark statute, thousands of dangerous criminals who had previously fallen through the cracks of Gotham's flawed legal system were arrested, given due process, and ultimately imprisoned in the infamous Blackgate Penitentiary. With the island prison filled to maximum capacity and the Joker securely locked away in Arkham Asylum, crime was nearly eradicated. The streets were safer, and the city's inhabitants were able to breathe easy. But as the old adage goes, nothing lasts forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Kate had been serving champagne for what seemed like an eternity. She navigated her way through the large ballroom of Wayne Manor, leaving its floor only to restock the ornate sterling silver platter with goblets of champagne when it was empty. For hours, she painstakingly made her rounds, ever aware of the consequences of a single miscalculation in movement. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene by colliding with one of the snobbish attendees.

Not a single one of them thanked her or any of her colleagues for their diligent service. The affluent had an obvious sense of entitlement which earned her disdain. As much animosity as she reserved for the well-to-do, she often found herself fantasizing about what it would be like to be rich. She knew one thing for sure: she would never act in such a pretentious manner as those she served. She attempted to abandon her frustration, as it was causing a burning, queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She told herself to just grin and bear it, for in a few hours, she would be home.

By 9, the ballroom was completely deserted. The party had moved outdoors, as the mayor was giving a televised address in the garden. Kate and her fellow servers had been permitted to join the guests outside to listen to the speech, but she chose to remain in the uninhabited ballroom instead. Besides, she knew all Garcia was doing out there was venerating Dent like he did every year on Gotham's newest holiday.

As the evening neared its end, Kate was beyond exhausted. Just as she slumped into a chair, a disheartening thought entered her tired mind. _This chair probably costs more than I make a year. _It was made of bronze, most likely solid, and the seat featured a red velvet cushion with an intricate pattern. The nauseous feeling that took hold of her stomach earlier rushed back like the waters of a raging flood. She could not wait to leave Wayne Manor.

After the mayor concluded his address, the stuffy event finally came to a close. By 11, she was finally on her way home. She arrived at her apartment building a little before midnight. She ascended the trio of staircases as fast as her tired legs would carry her. Much to her annoyance, the light on the third floor was burned out yet again. She fumbled through her purse in the dark in search of her keys. When she located them at the bottom of her bag, she traced the outline of the first key she grabbed to determine if it was the correct one. Much to her satisfaction, it was.

Her apartment was the definition of "hole in the wall." It measured just over 600 square feet in total and contained a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. Despite all her ambition and unwavering desire for a better life, her dead-end job and below average apartment were her bitter reality. Sometimes she didn't know what was worse, the presence of hope or the absence of it. Without hope, she pondered, what was there to really live for? If this was all her life was ever going to be, a struggle to eke out a bare-bones existence, she wasn't sure she even wanted to live a long life. On the other hand, however, she wondered if it would be better to simply abandon her hope for a brighter future and accept the fact that she was destined to lead a dismal existence. She forced herself to push the nagging thoughts from her mind because she knew she wouldn't sleep the entire night if she didn't.

Out of sheer boredom, she turned on the television. It was tuned to Gotham Cable News. She waited for several moments in the hopes of catching something that might serve as a distraction, but what played was a segment on a football game between Gotham and Rapid City that would commence the upcoming Sunday. As she was not interested in sports in the least, she shut it off.

She peeled away each layer of her restraining uniform and headed into the bathroom. She turned on the water and poured a capful of her favorite bubble bath into the filling tub. She fetched her MP3 player from atop the white utility rack and shuffled through her playlist until she arrived at her chosen melody.

She slipped into the tub and her nostrils filled with the relaxing aroma of fresh blooming jasmine, one of her very favorite scents. The hot water did wonders for her tense, achy body. She went limp and she tried to forget all her troubles and focus solely on the tranquil song that was playing softly in the background. After the final chorus commenced, she rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around her body before going back to the bedroom. She fetched a camisole from the top drawer of her dresser and switched off the light. She sank into her bed and hoped to become reacquainted with the ideal slumber she had experienced the previous afternoon.  
_

Kate's mood improved the following day due to the fact that she had the next two consecutive days off from work. She needed the time off to both recover from the previous week and prepare for the upcoming one. She detested even the thought of leaving the sanctuary of her modest apartment, but she needed to pick up her uniforms from the dry cleaner before 5, or the greedy owner would charge her for an extra day. After a couple of hours of aimless web surfing, she decided she could put her trip off no longer and headed out the door. She wore an unbuttoned hunter-green cardigan over an embroidered black spaghetti-strap top with a pair of boot cut, dark-wash jeans and basic black flats.

That afternoon's weather was dreary with an overcast sky. Unlike most people, Kate preferred days like this. Fortunately she could forego the bus that day, as the dry cleaner was well within walking distance of her apartment. In spite of her affection for cloudy days, she hoped not to get caught in the rain.

The streets were packed, a seemingly endless sea of people all walking with purpose from one place to another, a crowded wave of citizens of all ages, races, and sizes. The constant hustle and bustle of her home city was something she never quite grew accustomed to, its frantic pace and burgeoning population were two more reminders of the true insignificance of a singular person.

She arrived back home about half an hour later. As she put away her uniforms, she contemplated how to spend the rest of the evening. She reached into her mini-fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke and a cup of yogurt. She took a spoon from off the top of the fridge. She didn't feel like getting online, so she flipped on the television, positive she would be flipping it back off within a matter of minutes.

Still tuned to GCN from the previous day, there was a breaking live news bulletin which read "Terror at the Stock Exchange." Footage of a darkly-clad gang, armed to the teeth, firing automatic weapons inside an overcrowded building played over and over again. The ticker scrolled along the bottom of the screen, its usual accelerated pace was noticeably decreased. She watched in near disbelief. Her heart rate increased, and her usual apathy was replaced by a kind of morbid curiosity. There hadn't been an occurrence in Gotham even remotely comparable to this for close to eight years. The experience was surreal, almost like watching a scene from a movie. She set her drink and snack beside her without taking her eyes off the screen.

The group appeared to be led by a man in a black mask. The mask covered the greater part of his face; only the sides of his face and eyes were visible. After the shooting ceased, he took possession of a laptop and inserted a device into it. She couldn't figure out exactly what he was doing, but she was surely not the only one in the dark about that. She wondered about the group's motives. Could they just be crazed psychopaths out for blood, hell bent on a high body count? Maybe they were under the influence powerful drugs. No, their actions displayed calculation and coordination at every instance. These men knew what they were doing; they were highly trained and had obviously planned every aspect of their onslaught.

After the havoc inside came to a close, the perpetrators exited the building on motorcycles with what appeared to be hostages in tow. By that time, what looked like the majority of the police force had arrived on the scene. News helicopters from every station in Gotham captured every breathtaking moment of the carnage. Once the getaway vehicles reached optimum speed, the offenders mercilessly flung their hapless captives to the ground. A steady stream of police cruisers relentlessly pursued the band of criminals in a high-speed, no-holds-barred chase. Once apprehended, she mulled, these men would most assuredly spend the rest of their lives in Blackgate.

The chase continued without consequence for several minutes, with the police unable to gain the upper hand on the fleeing gang. The getaway vehicles weaved speedily and seemingly effortlessly in and out of traffic throughout the congested streets. The crisis was reaching a fever pitch, even the reporters documenting the action were becoming antsy. That was when the unthinkable happened: Batman appeared out of nowhere. It was like witnessing a person who had been dead for years suddenly being resurrected. The situation went from weird to beyond bizarre. The direction of the pursuit reversed completely in just a few moments. The cops abruptly ended their chase of the armed robbers and began pursuing Batman instead. She figured they had to prioritize. After all, Batman had eluded them for eight years; their previous targets had been fugitives just short of ten minutes.

When it was all over, nothing, aside from a shit load of property damage had been achieved. Both Batman and the unknown band criminals had escaped, despite the efforts of Gotham's finest. Kate failed to grasp why Batman would emerge after eight years of inactivity to unsuccessfully chase a group of thugs who were already being trailed by a more-than-adequate portion of the police force. Surely he must have known that the cops would turn their attention to him the moment he was spotted. The entire event was utterly absurd.

Footage of the outlandish incidence was subsequently played on virtually every channel the remainder of the night. The story which entranced her for the better part of the evening made its way to the national news networks as well. She watched intensely as so-called experts from every imaginable discipline offered their keen insights and theories about both the attackers and Batman. Kate's tired eyes remained glued to the archaic television until her body finally succumbed to exhaustion.


	3. Chapter 3

In the days following the Stock Exchange mayhem, the bewilderment that had permeated the very fabric of Gotham had subsided considerably, and life reverted to its normal state for the most part. That fact really wasn't surprising, as it was ostensibly human nature to move forward from the jarring and unexpected. Resilience and adaptability were examples of the more admirable traits of humanity, at least in Kate's opinion. Speaking of which, her familiar, humdrum existence continued as well, her nights occupied by her unequivocally mediocre job.

On Sunday afternoon, she managed to roll out of bed at the very first alarm buzz, so she took the opportunity to put her cosmetics to good use. After she applied foundation, she lined her top and bottom eyelids and swept her lashes with an even coat of mascara. A clear, subtle lip gloss completed her semi-natural look. After ironing her unruly hair until it bore the smooth texture she was aiming for, she left her apartment promptly at 3:25.

She departed for work determined to adopt a more optimistic attitude, one that had been noticeably absent in the preceding days. Perhaps her brightened outlook was due to her moderately enhanced appearance. Whatever the reason for her improved mood, it was the traditional cycle of her life to which she had grown accustomed; a period of melancholy would run its course and would then be replaced by a sort of begrudging acceptance of her bleak existence. She could not go through life in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction and maintain her sanity at the same time, so she sought joy in the so-called little things in life, such as enjoying one of her favorite songs or encountering a smiling child. As unimpressive as her life was in comparison to those of a number of her fellow Gothamites, particularly to those of whom she served on a nightly basis, she was always one to count her blessings.

At 3:42, as she was en route to work, an intense force rocked the bus; the turbulence was so strong it dislodged many, including Kate, from their seats. Panic and terror gripped the passengers. They screamed and cried aloud, some pulled out their cell phones in hysterical attempts to determine the cause of the extreme disturbance. The initial blast was followed by several additional tremors that were just as strong, if not stronger. The busy avenue was abound with accidents, and the bus came to a screeching halt as a result. Many of the occupants scurried off while others chose to remain inside. As pandemonium ensued, Kate abandoned the minimal confines of the vehicle and rushed home hoping to find out what in the hell was going on. Upon reaching her apartment building, she bolted up the stairs as many tenants ran in the opposite direction. Nearly out of breath, she finally reached her floor. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might explode. She slammed the door, secured the dead bolt, and frantically searched for the remote.

GCN was live at Rogue Stadium. The gargantuan arena appeared to have been swallowed by the earth itself. The fans were shrieking and screaming in discord at the horrific sight that lay before them. Kate had only just begun to survey the carnage when suddenly, to the collective horror of the spectators, an eerily-familiar figure embarked onto what was left of the coliseum. She could not believe her eyes; it was the very man who had orchestrated the attack on the Stock Exchange just a few days prior. He strode onto the shambles of the once glorious stadium with absolute confidence and authority. He was an awe-inspiring sight to behold, a perfectly chiseled, wholly intimidating physical specimen. He was flanked by an entourage of henchmen who appeared more than ready and willing to engage in an all-out war. He grabbed a microphone from a dead referee.

"Gotham! Take control! Take control of your city!" he said in a strangely muffled voice. "This, this is the instrument of your liberation," he continued.

As he spoke, a large device was rolled onto the demolished field. Kate did not know exactly what the apparatus was, but she knew it couldn't be anything good. An overwhelming sense of dread gripped her, resulting in an alarming tightness in her chest. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her pulse rate seemed to double in an instant. Another man was then shuttled onto the field by the masked man's depraved sycophants. The newly-arrived man was clearly not a member of the assemblage of terrorists; he was clearly as frightened as the thousands of onlookers who still inhabited the obliterated venue. It was obvious he was being forcibly held by these lunatics, an unwilling participant in their malevolent plan.

"Identify yourself to the world," the villainous instigator demanded.

"Dr. Leonid Pavel, nuclear physicist," the captive replied.

"And what, what is this?" the terrorist asked as he signaled towards the device.

"It's a fully primed neutron bomb with a blast radius of fifty six miles."

"And who is capable of disarming such a device?"

"Only me," the doctor replied.

"Only you. Thank you, good doctor."

With those words, the villain broke the scientist's neck like a twig. The broken man fell dead before the world. The fans in the stadium screamed in reaction to the incomprehensible horror. Kate let out a gasp as her body was frozen in place by an all-encompassing state of both fear and shock as the masked man once again addressed the crowd.

"Now, this bomb is armed. This bomb is mobile. And the identity of the trigger man is a mystery. For one of you holds the detonator. We came here, not as conquerors, but as liberators to return control of this city to the people. At the first sign of interference from the outside world, or from those people attempting to flee, this anonymous Gothamite, this unsung hero, will trigger the bomb. Now martial law is in effect. Return to your homes, hold your families close, and wait. Tomorrow, you claim what is rightfully yours."

He then threw the microphone to the ground and departed the field. Only one thing was certain: the world as Kate, along with everyone in Gotham, had known it was over.

* * *

Gotham's masked conqueror was known only as Bane. He laid waste to the city and claimed its ruins as his own private empire. There was an unsubstantiated rumor that Batman himself had had challenged Bane, but was easily dispatched by the city's new de facto leader. The allegation served the usurper well, as it made him all the more frightening, if that was even possible. It was also rumored that in the wake of his agonizing defeat at Bane's hands, Batman had been imprisoned by his vanquisher in an unknown location.

After the razing of Rogue Stadium, there was only one obstacle standing in the way of Bane's unrivaled dominance of the city. Unfortunately for Gotham's populace, his extraordinary physique was equally matched by a brilliant mind. This wasn't some mindless brute they were dealing with; he was an enemy of exceptional intelligence, and he used his superior intellect to lure the bulk of the police force underground and then subsequently trap them by setting off explosives implanted in every major bridge in the city.

He also managed to commandeer high-tech weapons and artillery from Wayne Enterprises, the former company of bankrupt heir Bruce Wayne. Furthermore, he retained possession of the nuclear fusion reactor, which was routinely transported from one undisclosed location to another, unbeknownst to anyone outside his inner circle. All who remained in Gotham were trapped like rats; any attempt by anyone to leave the city would result in the immediate detonation of the reactor.

To the shock of all, Bane revealed a long-kept secret about the dearly departed Harvey Dent. The legacy of Gotham's favorite son was a fraud; he had not been a beacon of justice as he was portrayed, but a demented madman who was dispatched by Batman after the former attempted to kill Commissioner Gordon's young son. Gordon had propagated the myth of the supposed irreproachable Dent for eight long years, while at the same time vilifying Batman, the true hero, the man who saved the life of his own son, in order to ensure the passage and preservation of the erroneous Dent Act. In the wake of the revelation, Bane seemed to be right about Gotham's rampant corruption and hypocrisy.

After spilling the beans about Dent, Bane's next move was to release the prisoners of Blackgate who were falsely prosecuted and incarcerated under the fraudulent legislation. Most of them joined their liberator's destructive cause in acts of solidarity. The convicts showed their gratitude by wreaking havoc on the fragile metropolis, shamelessly pillaging and plundering their way through the ravaged city.

The rich and powerful were among Bane's prime targets, and he made sure they were longer at the top of the food chain. He held a special kind of derision for these people and denied them even the slightest modicum of mercy. They were held accountable for their oppression of people whom they deemed beneath them. Public trials were convened by the citizens themselves. Presiding over this kangaroo court was the deranged Dr. Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow, who acted as a puppet judge. The trials were a sham, as the accused were always found guilty rather expeditiously. After the verdict was handed down, the condemned would be given a choice of death or exile. While the former was self-explanatory, the choice of exile was a cruel joke which seemed especially amusing to the disturbed former head psychiatrist of Arkham Asylum. If a person chose exile, he or she would be led onto the delicate sheet of ice that covered the waters of the island city and given a chance to make their way to freedom. However, the ice was so thin it never failed to crack, and the convicted citizen would either drown or succumb to hypothermia in the icy river.

Three arduous months had passed since Gotham's leveling. In spite of the grim circumstances, life went on. Most people hunkered down in their homes and attempted to make the best of whatever time they had left. Currency was still valuable to a certain degree, but most people stopped going to work due to the unavailability of compensation and the abound dangers of the fallen city. Others continued to work, as it was both a way to occupy their troubled minds and maintain a sense of normalcy at the same time.

Without the privileged to wait on hand and foot, Kate found herself out of a job. To top it off, her avaricious landlord threatened her with eviction if she failed to pay her rent on time. She had to come up with the money within a week if she wanted to keep a roof over her head. There was one profession she knew of where it would be possible to earn fast cash, although she shuddered at the thought of having to abandon the little dignity she had left. She knew she had to swallow her pride and do whatever she had to in order to survive, so the next day, she caked on a full face of makeup and headed down to the Garden of Eden, Gotham 's premiere mecca of adult entertainment.


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearing a month since Kate began her stint as a dancer at The Garden of Eden Gentlemen's Club. If nothing else, her new occupation allowed her to keep her apartment and earn an adequate living without having to resort to a life of crime. One might think an exotic dance club would be empty in the midst of the chaos and disorder left in the wake of the coup, but surprisingly, business was decent. Many men were more than willing to sacrifice the remainder of their incomes in exchange for enjoying naked women who danced as if the world still made sense.

At the outset, she had a difficult time getting used to parading around naked in front of strangers. Prior to taking the stage for the first time, she nearly ran out the back door. She immediately realized she possessed neither the self-esteem nor the dance skills required for her new job. Luckily, she found a friend in Jane Mitchell, a fellow dancer who was around the same age. The two women found they had a lot in common; they shared both similar backgrounds and the same cynical outlook on life. In fact, their only difference seemed to be their physical appearance. Jane was a shorter, curvaceous blonde, whereas Kate was a taller, willowy brunette.

Jane introduced her new friend to the wonders of Xanax, a drug that, when consumed in the proper amount, helped the novice dancer to shed the inhibitions and insecurities that had previously prohibited her from becoming successful in her new profession. Kate was thankful for the generosity of her newfound confidante, as the drug allowed her to do a job she never would have considered before.

That particular Friday night was shaping up to be like any other. It was nearing 10, and things were just warming up. The club was packed, and Kate was eager to put another night behind her. Unbeknownst to anyone, a new patron was particularly attentive to her that night. He leered at the unsuspecting dancer with unbridled lust, his eyes never left her body as she stripped away one layer of clothing after another. After her performance on the main stage concluded, the man arranged for a private dance. After a brief chat with Jane, Kate proceeded to her assigned VIP lounge. Inside an unassuming man of average height and build awaited her arrival.

"I don't think I've ever seen you here before. Is this your first visit?" she asked.

He answered her query with a simple nod.

"Well, I hope you're enjoying our little piece of paradise. Make yourself comfortable. I'll begin whenever you're ready."

The man situated himself on the black velvet sectional and prompted her to begin her. As she danced before him, a feeling of uneasiness crept over her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt something was off about the way he stared at her. Most of the customers were eager to engage in conversation; this man never uttered a word, he just gazed at her in a way that unnerved her. After she finished, he paid her fee without breaking his silence.

"Thanks doll, have a good night," she said in a failed attempt to elicit a response from him.

Kate exited the lounge, relieved to be free from the man's dubious presence. As the night progressed, she all but forgot about the peculiar patron. At the end of her shift, she went into the dressing room where Jane had already begun changing.

"Lucrative night?" she asked as Jane was changing into her street clothes.

"Pretty good. Natasha bailed, so I got her two of her VIPs. How about you?"

"Can't complain," Kate responded.

Kate changed into her regular clothes as well. After they were both done, they headed out the back door. It was a chilly December night, just four days before Christmas. Both women wore heavy coats, hats, and gloves to shield them from the frigid weather. They arrived at Jane's apartment after about 20 minutes.

"Want to come up for a while?"

"Sure."

They proceeded into Jane's apartment and savored the heat it provided. After removing their winter garb, Kate sat on the couch while Jane went into the kitchen.

"I couldn't swipe any booze," said Jane. "They're running low, and Gus counts the shit every night now."

"Yeah, I saw him doing that the other night," Kate giggled.

Jane brought in two glasses of water and handed one to her friend.

"Cheers," Jane said as they clanked their glasses.

"So how long have you been doing this?" asked Kate.

"Stripping? About a year now. I started out in some dive just outside St. Louis. What a hellhole. The only customers I ever had were fat truckers whose idea of a generous tip was five bucks. I got out of there as soon as I could."

"How long have you been in Gotham?"

"About eight months. Showed up just in time for the excitement, huh?" Jane responded with a sarcastic chuckle. "What about you? You a natural-born Gothamite?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So what did you do before all this?"

"I worked at a catering company. Served uptight snobs for about a year."

"No snobs, no job, huh?"

"If I hadn't found this job, I'd be living in a box under Kane Bridge right about now. Or what's left of it."

"Dancing's not so bad. It gets a bad rap, but it pays the bills. Quite well, in fact. Of course, we'd be making twice or even three times as much under normal circumstances."

"If it weren't for the benefit of your pharmaceuticals, I don't think I could do it."

"It gets easier. Hell, you're already pretty good at it."

"Thanks…I think," Kate said with a smile. "Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think's going to happen?"

"I don't know," Jane shook her head slowly as her face took on an uncharacteristically worried expression.

"Are you scared?"

A brief silence followed Kate's query as their morose reality hit both women like a ton of bricks.

"Yeah, I am. For the first time in my life, I am truly terrified," replied Jane as she sipped her water.

"The only reason I ask is because you always seem so calm and together."

"Yeah, well we both know I'm pretty good at putting on a show. Are you scared?"

"It's weird, actually. I go from being completely panic-stricken to…nothing, just numb. Sometimes I think I'm losing my mind," Kate fretted.

"Don't sweat it. You're not the only one."

"You know, I've never really had a friend before you."

"I find that hard to believe."

"When I was young, we moved around a lot. I changed schools like most people change clothes. I never learned how to make friends, I suppose. As I got older, I became so jaded that I didn't even want friends. I never allowed myself to get close to anyone. Well, a few guys, but those were all disasters. I figured that if I didn't let anyone get close to me, there'd be no one to hurt me, no one to let me down."

"I get that. But you know what? I think that we would be friends, even under normal circumstances."

"I think so too," Kate smiled.

"I'm not bragging when I say this, but I've been around. I've known just about every kind of person there is. And you…you're a diamond, Katie. Don't ever let anyone tell you any different."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Come here," said Jane. The two women hugged one another tightly.

"All right, enough of this mushy stuff," said Jane as she playfully shoved her friend.

"Yeah, I'd better head home."

"You working tomorrow?"

"I'll be there."

"Until tomorrow then," Jane smiled.

Kate reapplied her winter garments and left the warmth of her friend's residence behind. She walked briskly, eager to make the freezing cold a memory. As she neared home, she heard footsteps behind her. Anxious by nature, she tried to not to panic and attempted to ignore whoever was behind her. As her pace quickened, so, too, did her follower's. After a few minutes, she had enough and turned around to confront whoever was trailing her. Much to her dread, it was the creepy patron from the club.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded.

"Mind if I walk you home?" the man asked.

"That's okay, I'm fine."

"You know, the streets are a dangerous place for a woman all alone at night."

Her anxiety heightened at his chilling words. She walked even faster than before in the hopes of losing him, but the rapidity of his footsteps indicated that he would not be easily deterred. Just as she decided to run, he caught up to her and violently grabbed her by the hair. He pulled her onto a narrow side street and slammed her against the wall of a building.

"So that's what I get for trying to be a nice guy, is it?"

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you…"

He placed a hand over her mouth and pulled out a large knife and pressed it with force to her throat. She tried to be strong, but she failed and let out a muffled cry.

"Now I'm gonna take my hand away. If you scream, I swear, I'll slit your fucking throat from ear to ear. You understand?" he prodded her for a response. She nodded with tears in her eyes.

The foul man removed her coat and tossed it aside. He slit her shirt up the front with the blade. He roughly groped her breasts and then made his way down her torso. He unbuttoned her pants and slid them halfway down her legs. He began to remove his pants, and it was all she could do to keep herself from vomiting. She knew full well it would only further enrage her assailant and maybe even get her killed. She closed her eyes and tried desperately to imagine any other reality but her current one. Just as he was about to violate her in the very worst way possible, she heard an indistinct noise. She opened her eyes and beheld a group of men approaching. She resisted the urge to scream, fearing he would make good on his promise of opening her throat.

One of the men pulled the attacker off of her and another subdued him. Just as she was about to bolt, she heard footsteps which indicated that someone was steadily approaching. Much to her horror, the person advancing towards her was none other than Bane. Her heart sank even further, and all hope left her in an instant. Her situation just went from incredibly bad to the absolute worst. She cleared his path as he approached the two men who held the aggressor.

"Is this how the citizens of Gotham entertain themselves at night?" he asked the miscreant, who trembled in unadulterated fear. When he did not answer, Bane moved closer to him.

"I asked you a question," he said calmly.

"We were just having a little fun, that's all."

Bane turned his attention to the tremulous woman before him. He noticed her shirt was torn, thus she was covering her exposed chest with her arms.

"I don't think she was having any fun."

He turned from his captive and moved towards Kate. He looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. He beckoned one of his subordinates, who in turn pulled out a gun and handed it to his boss.

And just like that, Kate knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that her life was over. There was absolutely nothing she could do to save herself now. She was outnumbered by armed men led by a heartless monster. Begging for her life would be futile; Bane was a remorseless mass murderer with the blood of countless victims on his hands. And in a few moments, she would be just another figure in that unknown statistic. She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face and she accepted her fate, hoping only that he would grant her a quick, painless demise. Just then she felt a hand take hold of her right one. She opened her eyes to the sight of Bane, who had just placed a pistol in her hand. She looked up at him perplexedly.

"Since it's the middle of the night, and this man cannot be tried in open court, I think it only fair that his victim decide his fate."

She stared at her would-be rapist with pure contempt. She took no pity on him whatsoever; just a few minutes earlier, he was preparing to brutalize her. If Bane and his men had not thwarted his evil plan, he would be desecrating her at that very moment. The hand with which she held the gun shook uncontrollably. Bane noticed this and instructed his men to bring the man closer to her. Now he was at arm's length, and she placed the barrel of the gun closer to his head.

"No, please don't! I wasn't going to kill you! I swear!" he begged.

Following his plea, he wept and babbled incoherently. Kate attempted to ignore his appeals and get on with the task at hand. Just when she was about to pull the trigger, she looked into the man's eyes. He was absolutely terrified as he faced imminent death. After several moments of indecisiveness, Bane addressed her.

"Why do you hesitate? This man was happily ravaging you moments ago. He may have even planned to kill you after he completed his vile act."

Her unlikely savior's words echoed in her head. Everything he said was true. This incident was probably not the first time this vile man had hurt a woman, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Men like him were beyond salvation, their crimes too heinous and unforgiveable, she rationalized. If she didn't kill him, he would surely rape someone else. She knew what she should do, what she had to do, and what she really wanted to do. But in the end, she still couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. As much hatred as she held for him, as badly she wanted him dead, she was incapable of ending his life.

"I can't," she tearfully admitted as she lowered the gun.

"Do you prefer him to go unpunished for his crime, along with those he will assuredly commit in the future?"

"No!" she replied emphatically, for a moment forgetting who she was talking to. "But I just can't!" she sobbed.

Bane suddenly grabbed the man by the neck, and just like that, it was over. The would-be rapist's corpse slumped towards his former victim, who peered into his lifeless eyes. She felt no compassion for him. In a way, she was grateful to Bane for doing what she could not.

The colossal masked man retrieved her discarded coat from the icy ground and draped it over her freezing body as she looked at him with appreciation. Her instincts told her to run home as fast as her legs could take her, but she remained in the alley and shivered in the bone-chilling winter wind as her eyes followed her rescuer's shadow until it faded into oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

The night she was nearly raped was Kate's last as a stripper. She knew she would never again be able to stomach the idea of disrobing in front of a stranger. Since she had been able to save a bit of money, she had the luxury of taking some time to herself to figure out her next move.

From then on, she spent most all of her time locked inside her apartment. She only ventured out when she needed food and, luckily, she didn't have to go far for that. Her building was all but abandoned, so she raided the dwellings of her former neighbors on a regular basis in search of food. She was more on edge than usual following the harrowing ordeal, and the Xanax she had stockpiled during her tenure at the Garden served her well in its aftermath. Her supply quickly dwindled, and her apprehension at the thought of running out grew each day. She knew she would have no peace whatsoever without the medication. When she was down to her final pill, she decided it was time to pay Jane a visit.

As she made her way to Jane's apartment, Kate looked behind her what seemed like every other minute, determined to never again be a victim. After about ten minutes, she reached Jane's complex. After two knocks, Jane answered.

"Oh my God, Katie!" Jane gasped as she embraced her friend tightly. "Where in the hell have you been?!"

"I'm sorry, Jane. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Get in here."

Kate entered the apartment and sat down on the couch. Jane went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water.

"I've been out of my mind! And I don't even know where the hell you live, so I couldn't even look for you. If you wanted to quit the club, fine, but you could have at least let me know you were okay."

"I know. I should have, but something…bad happened."

"What?"

Kate inhaled deeply as if she was attempting to summon the strength to continue.

"That night, the last night we saw each other."

"Yeah?"

"I had a private show. The guy was weird. I mean, he looked ordinary enough, but there was something off about him. He didn't say a word, he just stared at me."

Jane listened attentively as Kate continued.

"After you went home…"

Kate paused in an attempt to catch her breath.

"I guess he must've waited for me. I started running, but he caught up to me and…he had a knife…" she continued, as she tried to choke back the tears for what felt like the millionth time in her life. As she recounted the story, her memory was flooded with flashbacks of the assault. She pushed her hair back and held her head in her hands. As much as she tried not to, she broke down.

"Oh Katie," Jane said, her voice full of empathy.

Jane embraced her friend tightly as the latter sobbed freely. After several minutes of crying, Kate regained her composure.

"I can't do it anymore…dancing, I mean," Kate tried to explain in between her sniffling.

"Of course you can't. Did you go to the hospital?"

"No. I'm all right."

"Katie, I know you're freaked out, and rightfully so, but you need to get checked out."

"He didn't rape me. Some guys showed up and pulled him off me."

"Oh, thank God!"

"You're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you."

"What?" Jane asked inquisitively.

"The men who showed up were Bane's. He was with them."

"Oh my God!" Jane exclaimed as her hands covered her mouth.

"He said that since the man couldn't be tried in court, I would decide his fate. He gave me a gun. I wanted to shoot the bastard so bad, but I just couldn't," she continued. "Bane killed him…snapped his neck. I still thought he was going to kill me, or maybe tell his men to, but he let me go."

"They didn't hurt you?"

Kate shook her head. "I've only been out of my apartment once since."

"I'm so glad you're okay."

"I was wondering if I could ask a favor?"

"Anything."

"I'm almost out of Xanax, and I'm a wreck. I don't think I can go without it, not yet, anyway."

"Sure, stay right here," said Jane as she made her way into the bedroom. When she returned, she handed Kate a bottle.

"I really appreciate this, Jane." She reached into her purse and pulled out a $20 bill.

"Absolutely not!" Jane retorted. "You're my friend, I won't hear of it."

"Jane, please, it's the least I can do."

"No, not paying me is the least you can do," Jane countered and handed the money back to her.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Thanks Jane. I should head back."

"Let me walk with you to make sure you get home okay."

"No, Jane. The streets aren't safe. I don't want anything to happen to you. Don't go out unless you absolutely have to."

The women embraced a final time before Kate left. She got to bottom of the stairs when she heard Jane's voice.

"Katie?"

"Yeah?"

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. You too."


	6. Chapter 6

Kate held the flashlight steady as her companion went to work on the safe. The home they had just invaded was long derelict, its former owner most likely sentenced to death in public court. Most of its contents had already been plundered in the prior months, but luckily for Kate and her accomplice, a lone vault remained safely hidden under an inconspicuous floorboard in one of the bedrooms.

"Are you guys in yet or what?" Jane barked as her voice simultaneously emitted from a walkie-talkie.

"Almost," Kate responded.

"Well hurry up, it's freezing out here!"

"I'm going as fast as I can, baby," replied a male voice.

Kate's partner-in-crime was Kyle Weaver, Jane's new boyfriend and safecracker extraordinaire. In the month that had passed since Kate's trauma, Jane had also concluded that stripping wasn't exactly a safe endeavor in the newly anarchistic Gotham. Fortunately for them, Jane's beau was highly skilled in the art of theft, and his talents afforded them an almost enviable lifestyle among the ruins of the city.

Kyle was an attractive man. He stood about six feet tall with dark brown, chin-length, pin-straight hair, and sharp cheekbones. He was only 26, but he seemed wise beyond his years. He and Jane had met shortly after the city fell. Prior to that, he was serving a five year stretch in Blackgate on an armed robbery charge. His maturity and reserve was in stark contrast to Jane's free-spirited, outgoing personality. They seemed like total opposites in nearly every aspect, but in spite of this, or perhaps because of it, they had a passion for one another that was conspicuously absent from Kate's life.

It was only another minute or two before Kyle successfully opened the safe. He sorted through its contents and placed its contents his backpack. The two of them then hurried outside to meet Jane, who was acting as the lookout. Jane carried a gun and knew how to use it, having being taught by her boyfriend after Kate's unfortunate incident. Both women knew had it not been for Kyle's resourcefulness, as well as his criminal background, they would still be shaking their asses for strangers. The trio made their way back to Jane's apartment and settled in the living room as Kyle counted their embezzlements.

"About three grand," said Kyle as he distributed the money evenly three ways.

"It's late. I should get going." Kate said as she tucked away her portion of the money in her purse.

"Oh come on, stay and celebrate with us," Jane implored.

"I really should get home," Kate replied.

"Why? What on Earth do you have to do that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Make sure my place is still my place, for starters."

Jane looked at her friend and knew there was no use arguing with her.

"All right, but be careful!"

"See ya, Kate," Kyle's voice followed.

"Night guys."

Kate was ever vigilant of her surroundings on her walk home, no doubt a result of her recent trauma. The streets were eerily desolate, the familiar sounds of the once lively city a distant memory. Most businesses had been deserted and long since looted. Some establishments remained in operation, but they were few and far between.

She arrived home at half past 2. Truth be told, she had been tempted by Jane's offer to stay a while, but Jane and Kyle were a couple, and she already felt like the third wheel more times than not. Aside from her lawless outings with her new friends, she spent the majority of her time alone. In her former life, she valued solitude, but due to recent events, she found herself craving human contact for the first time in a long time.

She did her best to put the night of the attack out of her mind, but there wasn't a day it didn't cross her mind at least once. She blamed herself to a degree; if she hadn't been stripping in the first place, it would never have happened. The lowlife who nearly raped her haunted her dreams often. The man who had delivered her from that fate made frequent appearances in her unconscious domain as well. She spent a great deal of time wondering why _ had spared her when he denied mercy to so many others. There were times she actually felt guilty for surviving the encounter.

The next few weeks were uneventful, as all three friends had enough money to last a good while. When Kate visited Jane approximately three weeks later, she could tell right away that something was wrong as soon as her confidant answered her door.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

"Kyle's gone," she said worriedly.

"Gone as in physically absent?"

"Since the other night. I'm really worried."

"I'm sure he'll be back."

"Something's wrong, I just know it."

"Did he take anything with him?"

"No, all his stuff's still here."

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

"He was talking to someone on his cell the night he left. I heard him say something about City Hall."

"What's at City Hall?"

"I don't know, but I think he might be working for _."

"What makes you think that?"

"About a week or so ago, some guy came here looking for him. He looked like one of _'s men. Oh my God, what if they've killed him?" she asked.

"Jane, you're jumping to conclusions. He'll probably be back soon," Kate said in a futile attempt to reassure her friend. She knew she was guilty of telling Jane what she wanted to hear; she had no way of knowing if Kyle was alive or dead. She knew it was a distinct possibility, but at that moment, she just wanted to calm her friend down. She made a pot of tea and poured them both a cup.

"What am I gonna do?"

"There's nothing you can do."

"I'm going to City Hall tomorrow to look for him."

"That's definitely not a good idea."

"I don't care. I'm going."

"Jane, you're not thinking rationally right now."

"I know you care, but you know you'd do the same thing if you were me."

"Fine," Kate sighed, "but I'm coming with you."

"No Katie, I can't let you do that."

"There's no way I'm letting you go alone," Kate insisted.

"Okay, okay. Maybe it's a good idea, you coming with me. I mean, if _ does have Kyle, maybe you could reason with him."

"Where'd you get a crazy idea like that?"

"He saved your life. That's got to mean something, right?"

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't. Could we get off that subject, please?"

"Sorry. Are you sure you want to do this?" Jane asked.

"No, I don't want to do it, but you're not giving me much of a choice. If you're going, so am I. What time?"

"Early. How's 8?"

"I'll meet you here at 8. And don't even think about sneaking out earlier either!"

Kate left Jane and started towards home. She couldn't help but doubt her friend's decision to search for Kyle. After all, he could very well have just left Jane while she slept in order to avoid a confrontation with her. Maybe he found someone else; it wouldn't be the first time a man abruptly left one woman for another. Or maybe he was working for _ and left because he didn't want to involve Jane in his dealings with the insurgents. She knew Jane's judgment was clouded by her abiding, and perhaps unwise, love for her boyfriend. Kate could only hope that the man they were going to risk their lives for was worth it.

Kate met Jane at her apartment at 8 o'clock sharp the next morning. She contemplated trying to talk Jane out of her dangerous plan, but she knew her efforts would be to no avail. They utilized back and side streets to reach City Hall quickly and discreetly. There was a light snowfall descending on the city as they traveled on foot. After about 15 minutes, they were just across the street from their destination on the east side. Flanked in front of the landmark was _'s militia. The eyes of both women frenziedly searched the crowd for Kyle.

"Over there!" Jane exclaimed as she pointed to the object of their search. He was wearing a bulletproof vest overtop military type gear and armed with an automatic weapon. Their attention was suddenly diverted to the opposite end of the street. A massive swarm of people clad in blue loomed south of City Hall. The two women looked on in puzzlement.

"Is that…the cops?" Jane asked as she refocused her eyes on the approaching mass of officers.

Right at that moment, a substantial allocation of Bane's troops, comprised mostly of former Blackgate inmates, was dispatched to dispel the invading crowd. They were joined by three of the assault vehicles the mercenaries had pilfered from Wayne Enterprises.

"Get back! Get back or be fired upon!" an amplified voice declared.

Undaunted by the announcement, the congregation advanced, slowly but surely, towards the city's captors. Kate and Jane turned their attention back to City Hall, where Bane had just exited the building. He gave the advancing crowd a few more seconds to cease their intrusion, but it was clear by then that the police would not be dissuaded.

Just as one of the assault vehicles was about to open fire on the force, a black aircraft descended out of nowhere just in time to intercept the strike. The bold intervention filled the cops with courage, and they gallantly charged the criminals unarmed. Bane's army and the police met head on in a fight to the death. A flurry of gunfire ensued, and many lives were lost. The situation was dire, and Kate knew she and Jane would not last long in the resulting riot. She grabbed Jane by the arm and attempted to lead her back in the direction from which they came.

"What are you doing?" Jane demanded.

"We've got to get out of here!" Kate screamed in reply.

"I'm not leaving without him!"

"Are you crazy? We're going to get killed!"

After Kate tugged Jane's arm with more force than before, Jane managed to escape her friend's grip and dashed into the fray.

Kate's rational side told her to forget about the both of them and get home as fast as she could, but something inside of her prevented her from embarking upon the logical course of action. Before she knew it, she was rushing into the raging crowd in search of her only friend in the world.

She was tossed around like a ragdoll as she desperately searched for Jane. It was like being in the eye of a storm. As she navigated her way through the tumult, a man inadvertently rammed into her from behind and knocked her to the ground. When she got back on her feet, she felt an excruciating pain in her right knee. She hobbled along and made her way through the mob as best she could. After what seemed like forever, she made her way into City Hall. As soon as she was indoors, she stopped for a minute to catch her breath. Just ahead of her, she beheld a body lying supine on the floor. As she gradually made her way towards the person, she realized who it was.

The person who lay before her was none other than Bane, the very man who had saved her life just a month before. His breathing was shallow and labored. She knew he was dying. She could not abandon him in his time of need, not after he had delivered her from a fate worse than death. She knew she could not save him as he had her, but she wanted to at least try to comfort him in his final moments. She knelt down beside him and took his hand in hers, surprised at its softness and warmth. Suddenly, she heard a ringing sound coming from his person. She reached into one of his many pockets and found an ordinary, no-frills cell phone ringing. Out of sheer curiosity, she pushed 'Talk,' but said nothing.

"Boss?" a voice replied.

"No, not quite."

"Who are you?"

"He's been shot. I don't think he's going to make it."

"What is your location?"

"City Hall, the front entrance."

Before she could continue, the man hung up. She placed the phone back into Bane's pocket and gazed upon him once again. His eyes remained closed, and he was completely still. She extended a hand and felt his neck and, to her surprise, felt a faint pulse. She examined his face and was very tempted to remove his mask. After thinking about it for a split second, she found herself attempting to figure out exactly how to remove it. It was an elaborate contraption that seemed to be bolted to his face. She fiddled with it for only a moment before she was interrupted.

An armed man entered the building and made his way over to Bane. Neither his facade nor demeanor was very threatening. In fact, quite the opposite was true. He was the type of man she may have been attracted to, under different circumstances, of course. He looked to be in his early 30s with short brown hair, a sparse beard, and piercing green eyes. She estimated him to be about six feet tall, give or take an inch or so. He had a thin build, high cheekbones, and a proportionate nose.

Several other men rushed into the building shortly after the first man. The first man assessed Bane's condition and directed the actions of the others. They carefully lifted their fallen leader and took him out the back entrance. Kate remained frozen in place as she tried to grasp the events of that fateful morning. Just as she was about to make her way out of the building, she was grabbed from behind and hoisted over someone's shoulder. She proceeded to scream and repeatedly pounded on the kidnapper's back, but her efforts to force him to relinquish her were useless.

With his hostage in tow, the man darted out the back entrance where a black cargo van was waiting. The abductor deposited her inside of the van and shut the doors. The vehicle lacked windows, and she was surrounded by pitch black. Just as extreme panic set in, she felt a sharp prick in her neck and lost consciousness almost immediately as the van sped away.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate was awoken, in which she assumed was the following morning, by an intense sensation that emanated from her right knee. The pain was unrelenting. She lifted the blanket that covered her to assess the damage. The knee was crudely wrapped in a bandage damp with blood. She tried to bend it slightly, but quickly abandoned her foolish endeavor after experiencing a swift rush of agony.

In an attempt to take her weary mind off her injury, she made a quick scan of her new surroundings. She was lying on her back atop a twin-size bed in a windowless room that could only be described as Spartan. Its only contents were the bed and a simple night stand located to the right side of it. The room was of medium size with gray walls and a steel door was located in front of the bed. As much as she liked to think she had changed, as much as she liked to think of herself as strong, she just could not feel anything but fear in the face of her current predicament. She could not, for the life of her, figure out where she was. No sooner than she again shut her eyes, she heard the door open.

"She wakes," said an unfamiliar voice.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," the mystery man replied.

"How long have I been here?"

"Since last night."

"Who are you?"

"It isn't broken, probably just badly sprained. The wound is superficial. Here, take this."

He handed her a white capsule along with an ice-cold bottle of water.

"What is it?"

"It'll dull the pain and produce a relaxing effect as well."

She gratefully accepted both items from the so-far benevolent stranger. She sat up, placed the pill in her mouth, and washed it down with a long sip of water.

"Thank you. What time is it?" she asked.

He looked at his watch "A little after 5 p.m."

"I've been asleep all day?"

"We sedated you for the trip. We thought it best that way for all involved."

"Trip? What is this place? And why am I here?"

"You were hurt. I didn't think it would be right to just leave you there after what you did."

"The bomb…did it go off?"

"That pill's going to take effect soon. You'll be out again in a few minutes. There will be plenty of time for talking later."

The man left her alone in the room. He was absolutely right; she was out within ten minutes.

_

By the next morning, the pain that had permeated Kate's knee had markedly diminished. Whatever pill the man had given her had done its job effectively. When she looked to her right, her eyes were met with a pleasant surprise. On top of the night stand was another bottle of water and a meal consisting of a pre-packaged bowl of cereal and a carton of milk. She reached for the water first, her mouth felt like cotton. She then quickly devoured her breakfast. She felt like food had not touched her mouth in ages. Shortly after she finished her breakfast, the man came back to change her bandage.

"You were the man on the phone?"

"Yes."

"My name's Kate. What's yours?"

He cut away the old bandage with a pair of medical scissors. Her knee was swollen, tinged a gross mixture of blue, purple, and yellow, and covered in a thin layer of dried blood. He disposed of the bandage in a nearby waste basket and swabbed the area with a succession of alcohol-dipped cotton balls. After he finished cleaning her knee, he wrapped it in fresh gauze.

"Bend it," he demanded.

"Are you kidding? I can't, it hurts too much."

"You mustn't leave it stationary, or it will grow weak and never heal."

"What does it matter anyway? It's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon, right?"

He shot her an irritated look, and she knew it was her cue to shut up. She should have known there was no use arguing with him. She winced in pain as she bent it as much as she possibly could. She let out a soft whimper and exhaled in relief when he allowed her to return it to its original position.

"Be sure to move it at least once an hour."

She looked on as her caretaker left the room once again.

Days turned into weeks, and during those weeks Kate's knee fully healed. The man who tended to her knee was the only person she laid eyes on the entire time. He was a man of few words, but those words were never harsh or intimidating. In addition to tending to her injury, he granted her other amenities, such as three square meals and a change of clothing each day. Luckily, there was a bathroom attached to her room, so she was able to brush her teeth and shower regularly.

The days were long and, aside from her daily visits from her mysterious caretaker, Kate had absolutely nothing to occupy herself, save her own thoughts. Sometimes she would pace back and forth just to tire herself out so she could go to sleep sooner. After two weeks, she was sure she was going stir crazy.

She spent a great deal of time reflecting on her life, ever aware of the fact that she might very well die before she even had even lived. Her life had been a constant struggle since birth. She had never experienced most things normal people took for granted.

Love was yet another aspect of life in which she had not been lucky. She had dated a few men intermittently, but she was never able to establish a lasting relationship. She seemed to be a magnet for immature, commitment-phobic men who sensed her naïveté and were more than willing to take advantage of her. She spent many lonely nights longing for her soul mate; someone with whom she could share anything, someone who could peer into her soul and see the person she really was, someone whose touch would awaken her spirit and whose embrace would rectify her entire life.

She tried to sleep as much as she could in order to pass the time faster. She dreamed nearly every night. The subjects of her dreams varied. Sometimes they were nothing more than a disarray of jumbled nonsense she could barely recall, yet on rare occasions, she would experience an idyllic fantasy that would leave her with an overwhelming sense of loss and despair upon awakening to the grim realization that captivity was her unchangeable reality.

After about a month of distressing over her plight, Kate's psyche underwent an unexpected change. All of her worldly concerns steadily dissolved; love, family, money, success. None of it mattered anymore. She surmised her newfound mindset might be similar to that of someone facing a lengthy prison sentence. She resigned herself to the fact that she would most likely die in her prison, and she found a twisted, morose sense of freedom in that rather than outright panic. She had spent 25 years waiting and worrying, wishing and hoping; now all she wanted was peace.

Without the luxury of a clock, she became an astute judge of time. One morning, she was particularly famished and somewhat perturbed that her breakfast was about half an hour late. She was relieved when she heard the door finally open.

She looked up and she realized her visitor was not who she expected. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and her body filled with trepidation as Bane entered her quarters. She had a hard time reconciling the fact that this was the same man who, just over a month ago, had lay near death before her eyes. She hadn't thought it possible that anyone, not even someone as physically impressive as Bane, could have survived such severe injuries. His menacing presence filled the room. His body was as monumental as ever, a testament to his rigid discipline and dedication. He seemed utterly indestructible as he towered over her with an air of undeniable authority.

"I've been told you assisted in my survival."

She could not bring herself to speak a single word. The calm resignation she had achieved over the past month was instantly replaced by a paralyzing sense of dread. Although this was the man who had, just a few months earlier, saved her life, he was also the same man who was willing to sentence hundreds of thousands to death without so much as an afterthought. She clenched her hands together in a futile attempt to stop them from shaking. She dared not move from her bed, as if that would serve as any kind of protection from his wrath had she the misfortune to incur it.

"Your fear is palpable. It is also unwarranted. Tell me," he continued, "why did you come to my aid?"

"You came to my aid once. I was simply returning the favor," she replied shakily.

He studied her face for a moment, until the memory flashed in his mind. His eyes indicated a spark of recognition.

"Do you remember?"

"I do."

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked in spite of the fact that she was afraid of the answer.

"I didn't. You sustained an injury. My subordinate saw fit to bring you here to recover."

"That was very generous of him. But as you can see, I'm fine now. So if it's all the same to you, I'd like to go."

"As you wish," he gestured towards the door.

Just as she began to advance towards the door, his unique voice resounded.

"I must warn you, the weather and terrain outside these walls are less than favorable. Even the most skilled survivalist would perish in a few days' time. I would not recommend your departure."

As much as she yearned for freedom, the prospect of facing the outside world all alone in unknown location without sustenance, means of transportation, or sense of direction was an even worse quandary. She knew she had no choice but to remain within the confines of her prison.

As Bane left the room, she contemplated following him, but came to her senses after a moment. The place was no doubt crawling with his men, and they weren't exactly known for their friendliness. An overwhelming sense of helplessness pervaded her mind. She was trapped in every sense of the word. Escape was a sure death sentence. Bane's lair was both her prison and her sanctuary.

She waited a while longer before conceding the hope of her breakfast being delivered. Lunch time came and went, and she did without that meal as well. She foolishly held out a shred of hope for dinner, but it never arrived either. She grew exceedingly hungry as one hour gave way to another. She drank water out of the bathroom tap in an attempt to sate her hunger and finally passed out in the wee hours of the morning.

The next day, she grew even more ravenous. She knew she was going to have to venture out of the room if she wanted to eat, so she breathed one last deep breath and searched for the courage within herself to open the door. She finally succumbed to her need for nourishment and turned the handle.

Directly outside the door was a narrow hallway with a single steel door at the end. She cautiously made her way down the corridor and opened the door which led to another compartment of the compound.

A burst of indiscernible noise met her sensitive ears, a distorted amalgamation of voices and movement. The room was abuzz with a flurry of activity. Bane's soldiers were so engrossed in their work that they didn't take notice when their prisoner infiltrated their citadel. The immense room was filled with a number of sizeable display screens; some were computer monitors and others were TVs tuned to various international news channels.

Bane was nowhere to be found in the room. Her eyes continued to scan the room until they caught glimpse of her recently-resigned caretaker, who was perusing over various documents and failed to notice her presence as well. She slowly made her way over to the only person with whom she had interfaced in well over a month. Well, technically, she had interacted with Bane, but it was only briefly, and she definitely was not about to seek out his company. She stood in front of him for a few moments until it was obvious he wasn't going to peel his eyes away from his papers any time soon. In a last ditch effort to gain his attention, she cleared her throat exaggeratedly. He finally looked up.

"Come to say 'hello?'"

"Hardly. I'm starving, and since it's become blatantly obvious that you're not going to feed me any longer, I have no choice but to try to feed myself."

"Your knee's fine now. No sense in you being cooped up any longer," he replied as he once again concentrated his focus on the papers.

"Could you please tell me where I can find something to eat in this place?"

"Follow me."

She stayed close to him, as he was the only one of them she barely knew and felt somewhat safe with. He led her out of the room into an abbreviated hallway which, in turn, led to a spacious kitchen comprised of several refrigerators, an endless array of cabinets, and an ample dining area.

"I hope you like nonperishables."

"You revolutionaries have a law against preparing your own meals?"

He stared at her with an expression that indicated without a doubt that he was not amused by her comment.

"Sorry. Just trying to add a bit of levity."

"The bowls are there and the silverware is there," he said as he pointed to a shelf and drawer respectively.

She rummaged through the cabinets for a minute before settling for a can of vegetable soup, which she poured into a bowl and placed in the microwave. Two minutes later, the timer sounded. She retrieved her modest meal and took a seat at one of the many empty tables. She consumed the meal while mulling over everything that had transpired in the last few months: Bane's debut at the Stock Exchange, his destruction of Gotham and the city's subsequent isolation from the rest of the world, her turn from demure waitress to self-assured exotic dancer to unrepentant thief, and finally, her current circumstances.

She thought about one event more than any other: the night bane had saved her. All his maliciousness and wanton cruelty did not negate the fact that he had saved her life and made her would-be rapist pay the ultimate price for his reprehensible crime. And he did all this in spite of the fact that he had no obligation whatsoever to do so; she was nothing to him, just another insignificant citizen in his eyes.

Now that she was his prisoner, she couldn't help but question, and even regret, her decision to help the man who had crushed her city into dust. He had saved one life, her life, but he was also the man responsible for the deaths of innumerable innocents. Did she deem her own life paramount to the thousands of others who had lost theirs at the hands of her own personal savior? The more she pondered the gravity of saving his life, the more she became lost in misery. Her face became flushed, a sensation of heat enveloped her body from head to toe, and the tears came as they always did, despite her best attempts to keep them at bay. She felt what she suspected was a panic attack taking hold of her. Her breathing increased at rapid rate and numbness was setting in her extremities.

With her last vestige of composure, she made her way through the hallway and then back through the large occupied room. She started to feel dizzy, and her vision became cloudy. As her final thought took root in her confused, anxious mind, her legs finally failed her. Her body fell to the floor and her head struck the unforgiving concrete floor with considerable force. Her eyes focused upward one last time, where they were met by a pair of striking eyes that were so disarming they caused her to become lost for a moment in the beautiful pools of blue and gray. They were the most beautiful sight she had beheld in recent memory. Her short reprieve from perdition ended brusquely when the metal tubes of the foreboding mask came into view. As Bane hovered over her, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the darkness.


	8. Update

I'm currently in the process of revision in an effort to improve this story in every possible way. This includes combining chapters, as I realized just how incredibly short some of them were. I'm also omitting some things I realized I didn't care for, after careful consideration, in an effort to improve the overall flow of the story. I'm hoping to complete this task by the end of the month. Subsequently, I will be updating on a regular basis once again. Please bear with me through this arduous process. Thank you all for reading :)


	9. Chapter 8

When Kate regained consciousness, she was in her bed once again.

"What was that about?" the familiar voice that was not Bane's asked.

"I had a panic attack, if you must know."

"Why?"

"I can't believe you have to ask. Look, I don't want to talk right now."

Kate grabbed her pillow and turned her back to him. At that point, she didn't care if he left her in the room to rot.

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands."

"I wish you hadn't brought me here."

"You've not been precluded from leaving."

"And you know damn well why I can't. I have food, no money, and no idea where the hell I am. He said the weather and terrain would kill me."

"You don't realize just how lucky you are, do you?"

"Lucky? You call this lucky," she scoffed at his audacious comment.

"You may want to reassess your situation. In case you weren't aware, Bane isn't exactly known for his mercy. I've seen him end the lives of many a man with a mere flick of his wrist."

"Why do you think he's letting me live?"

"I don't know; gratitude, perhaps. Despite the propagandistic assertions of your erroneous media outlets, he is a fair and rational man with a distinct reverence for loyalty."

Kate didn't know if it would be smart to divulge the fact that Bane had saved her life. She decided to err on the side of caution and not mention it at all.

"In any event, you've healed sufficiently. Therefore, you will not be permitted to lie around in this room any longer. Idleness is not a trait we are fond of."

"What would you have me do?"

"What did you do in Gotham?"

"I was a waitress. I served food to the privileged elite."

"Did you enjoy that line of work?"

"No, I didn't. It was a way to make ends meet. I don't suppose you can understand the concept of not having a choice."

"Well, we definitely have no need for a food servant. "I suppose it's back to the drawing board then," he replied as he took his leave.

"Maybe not, but we all could benefit from a chef," she called out as she left. "Maybe you could drop that in the suggestion box!"

Kate retired early that night, but all of her efforts at achieving sleep were failures. She tossed and turned for several hours until she heard the cracking of her door. The intruder approached her bed beneath the cloak of complete darkness.

"Are you awake?"

The altered voice was unmistakable.

"Unfortunately."

"Would you like to know what brings me here at such a late hour?" asked Bane as he sat at the foot of her bed.

"It had crossed my mind, although I don't expect an answer."

"Why is that?"

"Because you people seem to derive a special kind of pleasure from keeping me in the dark about things."

"Never begin a sentence with a conjunction."

"Is that why you're here, to give me a late night English lesson?"

His silence was nerve wracking.

"It was just a joke."

"Barsad tells me your occupational skills are rather limited."

"Who?"

"My second-in-command, the man who has been caring for you."

"Yeah, he made my uselessness around here pretty clear."

That all too-familiar feeling of dread took hold of her as the magnitude of the situation dawned on her. She knew what was coming. Why else would he visit her in the middle of the night? She was of no use to them, and now he knew it. He felt her body quake on the bed.

"You scare so easily. I don't even have to put any effort into it."

"What can I say? Your reputation precedes you. So why are you here?"

"I would like to know more about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"First, I'll tell you what I do know. I know that you're 25 years old. I know that you live at 1824 East Laurel Street. I know that your parents, David and Karen, surrendered their custodial rights in your 13th year. I know that you were subsequently placed in foster care until you reached adulthood. I know that you graduated from East Gotham High School in 2005, and that you have no record of college matriculation."

"You've done your homework."

"Your life in Gotham does not seem very appealing."

"It wasn't a picnic."

"You are no longer in Gotham. Perhaps it's time for you to make a fresh start."

"What do you mean?"

"You could learn a thing or two here, if you so desire."

"Like what? How to kill people?"

"Barsad warned me you had a fire to you, that your timidity is sometimes quickly supplanted by an unanticipated flippancy."

"I apologize for my rudeness. It's just that…I think…no, I know that I'm incapable of taking a life."

"That fact was evident the night of our first meeting. I mentioned nothing about taking life, so why have you introduced the subject?"

"From what I can tell, your sole purpose is devoted to just that."

"You are misinformed. I will not deny the fact that the taking of life is sometimes necessary, even just in some cases, but it is not our sole objective."

With those words, Bane's tremendous form rose from the bed and proceeded to the door.

"What are your other objectives?"

"You will have to wait to find out. In the meantime, you will embark upon the long journey to your new life. Your training will commence soon."

"What kind of…" she began to ask.

And just like that, he was gone.

Kate rose earlier than usual the next morning. She hardly slept at all the previous night, her mind wrought with fears of her uncertain future. She cringed at the thought of what Bane had in store for her.

She took a quick shower and brushed her teeth fastidiously. After about an hour, her caretaker, whose name she now knew was Barsad, entered her quarters unannounced, much to her displeasure. He clearly did not have an affinity for knocking.

"It has been decided that you shall receive training. This training will consist of both physical and mental preparation. First, your overall physical health must be evaluated. You will see a doctor this morning for just that purpose. Follow me."

She followed him down the narrow corridor into the large room with the monitors. It was full of people as it had been the first time she had been there. After traveling through an intricate series of passages which made the place seemed like nothing more than a large maze, they arrived at the medical quarters. It looked just like a normal doctor's office except for the fact that it was devoid of any anatomical visual aids. He grabbed a hospital gown and handed it to her.

"The doctor will be in in a minute. I'll be outside."

After just a few minutes, the doctor entered the room. He was a short, middle-aged man with a slight frame and an olive complexion. He was most likely of Indian or perhaps Middle Eastern descent. His face was clean shaven, and he wore glasses. His attire was ordinary: a light brown sweater vest over a white button-down shirt and brown slacks. The stereotypical stethoscope completed his ensemble.

"Miss Lowry?"

"Yes," she answered softly.

"I am going to perform a full physical examination this morning. Tell me, when was your last physical?" he asked as he eyed his clipboard.

"About eight years ago," she replied, somewhat embarrassed by her answer.

"Let us begin. Please step onto the scale."

The old-fashioned scale read 115, a few pounds shy of her normal weight. The doctor then took her temperature and blood pressure and listened to her heart. He instructed her to flex each limb so he could test her reflexes. He examined her eyes, nose, ears, and throat and then made his way down to her abdomen, feeling for any abnormalities. He inspected her spine next. After that came the awkward part.

"All right, Miss Lowry, please remove your gown."

The doctor gently probed each breast in a meticulous, circular motion. _The first time I've been felt up willingly in over two years, and it's by some doctor working for my kidnappers_.

"Everything appears to be in order. I did not note any obvious signs of ill health. You seem to be a perfectly healthy 25-year-old," he smiled as he clicked his pen. "Just a few routine questions, and we'll be finished. Do you take any prescribed medication?

"No."

"Do you use or have you used any recreational drugs?"

"No."

"Do you smoke or consume alcohol on a regular basis?"

"No."

"Any family history of illness?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you sexually active?"

"Not currently."

"Any sexually transmitted infections?"

"No."

"Any past pregnancies?"

"No."

"That about covers my inquisition," he said with a slight smile. "Do you have any questions? Concerns?" he asked.

"No, I suppose not," she muttered.

"Good. Should you have any problems in the future, you will be sure to let our mutual friends know so you can see me again."

She nodded.

"You can get dressed now. Good day, my dear."

"Thank you, Doctor."

She forced herself to return the smile, as she felt his kindness was genuine. She wondered if he was here of his own free will or if he was a prisoner like she was, just trying to make the best of a bad situation. The affable doctor turned and exited the exam room. Kate removed the gown and changed back into her normal clothes, which that day consisted of a black tank top and gray yoga pants. Just as she pulled the second pant leg on, she heard a knock at the door.

"Yes?"

"Are you decent?"

"Yes," she replied. _At least he had the courtesy to knock_ _this time_.

"It seems you're the picture of health."

"Please tell me that was the hard part."

"I'm afraid not."

"Dare I ask what's next?"

"We need to establish an exercise regimen for you. You're healthy now, but that's mostly due to the fact that you're young. If you want to maintain that health, you must exercise. The body requires an adequate amount of exertion, along with a balanced diet, in order to maintain prolonged health and vigor. Once your body is in prime physical condition, we will turn the attention to your mental well-being.

"You sound like an infomercial."

"What's an infomercial?" he asked, her attempt at humor obviously lost on him.

"Never mind," she shook her head in resignation.

"Come on, you've got work to do."

He led her outside the medical quarters to a part of the bunker; a small-scale gym, complete with every exercise apparatus known to man.

"You should exercise for at least an hour each day. It's best to do this in the late afternoon, around 4 or 5. You should incorporate, cardiovascular, flexibility, and resistance training into your routine."

"I've no idea what any of that is."

"Walking is low-impact cardio. Its benefits are immense, but our accommodations aren't very practical for roaming. We do, however, have a treadmill, which essentially provides the same experience. It's very customizable; you can go as fast or slow as you like. I'd also recommend the exercise bicycle, it's good for toning the legs. Stretching will greatly improve your flexibility. Weight-lifting is a good example of resistance training. Start slow, don't go trying to lift more than you can handle. You should start with the lightest of weights and work your way up."

"Work my way up to what? Being the female Bane?"

Her irreverent comment succeeded in eliciting a chuckle from him that neither of them had anticipated.

"We don't expect you to transform into a mountain of muscle. Your goal is a lean, trim body that is agile and flexible. A little extra strength wouldn't hurt either."

"Is this your not-so-subtle way of calling me fat?"

"Not at all. Your weight is healthy, proportionate for your frame, and you have a desirable body mass index. All you need now is a bit of discipline and training, and your body will be well on its way to being a weapon."

"I'll be a weapon," she said deadpan.

"If you take your training seriously and fully commit to it, yes."

"Do you have an exercise regimen?"

"Of course, though I'm not able to devote as much time to it as I would prefer."

"So you don't work out every day?"

"I'm afraid my duties do not allow for it."

"What duties are those?"

"This isn't '20 questions.' Once your body has reached its optimal level of performance, your training will advance to the next step."

"Which is?"

"Are you familiar with the Basic Training program employed by the military?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Our program is similar. It will prepare you both mentally and physically for your future duties. Though I must stress that once your initiate training culminates does not mean you're on Easy Street. Training is a continual process and is essential if you want to find your place here."

_My place_. That was something Kate had never found in all her 25 years, and it had not been for lack of trying. She was almost afraid to envisage it anymore. Each time she felt it within her reach, it was always ripped away from her, and she was left with that all-too-familiar feeling of despondence. She hadn't belonged with her parents; she was an inconvenience, a burden they did not wish to bear. She hadn't belonged with her foster families; they had all displaced her without fail as soon as she began to achieve some semblance of stability. She hadn't belonged with any of her three assumed boyfriends; they were all more than happy to bleed her dry and toss her aside. And she most assuredly had not belonged in Gotham; her birthplace that besmirched her every chance it got. Maybe this recent detour her life had taken wouldn't be as bad as she feared. Maybe she wouldn't meet her end at Bane's hands. Maybe it really would be possible for her to shed the shackles of her former existence and evolve into the capable, confident person she had always longed to be.


	10. Chapter 9

After he familiarized Kate with the workout area, Barsad led her back to her quarters. She had hoped her new activities would allow her to escape the boundaries of her room for more time than just an hour a day. When they arrived back at her room, she was startled by the sight of Bane sitting at the foot of the bed. He dismissed Barsad with a mere nod.

"You must be profoundly bored in here all day," he observed. He was clad in a black, long-sleeved shirt and black military-style pants and boots.

"That's an understatement."

"What are your interests?"

"I'm afraid my former life didn't allow for much leisure time."

"Surely you must have filled your idle time with some form of activity."

"Chores mostly."

"Do you enjoy reading?"

"I never indulged in it much."

"Was that a conscious decision?"

"Not really. I just never had much time."

"I have a rather extensive library. Perhaps you'd like to borrow a book," he gazed at her while she fidgeted nervously.

She looked at him with a befuddled visage. His visit had caught her off guard, and his ominous presence made her forget the subject of their conversation.

"Come," he said as he gestured towards the door.

She followed him out the door. To her surprise, he led her not down the perpendicular hallway, but to the room to the left of hers. He pushed his right thumb against some sort of identification device that emitted a beeping sound when it was complete. The steel door led to a room which obviously served as his office, as evidenced by the state-of-the-art workstation. They passed through the office and through another door located at the rear of the room, which he opened with the same method he opened the first. This one led to a short, narrow its end, another door awaited. With another thumb press, they were granted entry. This room was a bedroom not very different from the one she occupied. Against the back wall was a neatly-made double bed with a black comforter draped on top. _So this is where the super villain sleeps_. Connected to the bedroom on the left side was a bathroom. She looked to the right and saw Bane standing before yet another door. However, this one did not require the thumb trick. After all their meandering, they finally arrived at their destination.

"After you," he said as he motioned towards her. She cautiously stepped into the room, which was smaller than the bedroom, but not by much. It was comprised of an amassing of bookshelves, every one of which was filled to capacity with every conceivable type of literature.

Bane leaned against the wall while his guest browsed his wide selection of books. She did not know what she was looking for, as her literary preferences were nonexistent. Displayed on the numerous shelves was an expansive array of both paperbacks and hardcovers, most of which were aged and worn. She was not an avid reader, nor had she ever been. Her knowledge of literature was limited to what she had been spoon fed in school: a mixture of Greek tragedies interspersed with several Shakespearean plays, Elizabethan sonnets, and a few Great American novels. She had never felt more ashamed of her limited education than at that moment.

"Do you have a predilection for any particular genre?"

She turned and looked at him at a loss.

"Would you like me to suggest something?"

Kate could not help but notice his beguiling politeness. It was rather unexpected from a man such as him. She expected his conduct to be abrasive and domineering, but he was surprisingly considerate, even gentlemanly. If it were not for his bloodstained history, along with the formidable mask, she might even have felt a degree of comfort in his presence.

"I would," she answered reservedly.

It only took him a few seconds to locate his selection and hand it to her. She peered down at the book in order to ascertain the title. It was an antiquated, hardcover edition of _Crime and Punishment_.

"Have you read it?" he asked.

"No."

"You may. I think you will appreciate it."

She felt his eyes upon her and reciprocated his gaze. She gazed into his eyes unabashedly, and she couldn't bring herself to refrain from the act. How such an inherently evil being could have such a gorgeous pair of eyes seemed almost tragic to her. Once she became aware of her indiscretion, she immediately broke her gaze.

"That's very generous. Thank you."

As she clutched the book with both hands, he signaled towards the door to let her know she was free to go.

She didn't have to be told twice. She journeyed out of her host's inner sanctum and returned to her room. She placed the book on the night stand and sat on the bed with her knees positioned in front of her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her head between her knees. She was somewhat taken aback by his gracious gesture. _Why are you so shocked by the fact that he's not a four-eyed monster frothing at the mouth? He did save your life, remember? _With that thought, her mind was immediately accosted by the disturbing memories of the worst night of her life. It was like being transported back in time. All the sights and sounds were there: the dark alley, the frozen ground, the attacker's sickening face and voice, his repugnant hands all over her body. She closed her eyes tightly and attempted to expel the torturous recollection. She hated how the infernal memory would overtake her without warning. She had often wondered if she might have had a touch of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In a last ditch effort to escape her mental anguish, she opened the book and began reading.

By the time Barsad came calling, Kate had nearly finished the first two parts of _Crime and Punishment_. He knocked and waited for a response before entering. She was pleased by this almost overnight improvement of decorum.

"It's 4."

She closed the book and set it on the night stand. He approached her and handed her an alarm clock.

"So you can keep track of the time for your workouts."

"Thanks."

"Come on."

Several minutes later, they arrived at the gym.

"Do you remember my recommendations?"

"Stretching, light weightlifting, bicycle, and treadmill. That about cover it?"

"That's adequate. At least fifteen minutes of each. After you finish, you can see yourself out."

"Where are you going?"

"I have duties to fulfill. Be sure not to make a pest of yourself. Go straight back to your room when you're finished. You have no business with anyone here yet."

"Yes, master," she jested as he left the gym.

She decided it would be a good idea to start with stretching, which felt incredible. Her body had been so tense for so long that she had nearly forgotten what a good stretch felt like. After her warm up, she turned on the treadmill and set the speed at a brisk walk and the timer for 15 minutes. As she steadily increased the rate of the machine, she found herself longing for her MP3 player. Following the treadmill session, she made her way to the weights. She selected the smallest ones first, just as Barsad had suggested. _Two pounds, what a wimp you are_. She concluded with a ride on the bicycle. She glanced up at the clock in the gym. _4:56_. _Close enough_. She grabbed a towel and wiped away the scant amount of perspiration that had formed on her brow.

When she got back, she promptly set the time to 5 p.m. She curled up on the bed and resumed her place in the book, eager to get back to the misdeeds of its seminal protagonist.

"How do you like it?"

Startled by the sudden sound, Kate let out a small shriek. She looked up to behold none other than Bane standing in her doorway.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, but I suppose I have effect."

"I'm sorry. I'm a little high strung."

"How far have you gotten?"

"I'm almost done with the second part."

"What is your impression thus far?"

"I like it."

"Perhaps you could expound on that statement."

"What do you want? A term paper?"

An awkward period of silence followed her facetious response. She knew she had misspoken and that she should immediately attempt to make amends. Just as she was about to utter an apology, he spoke.

"I would think someone in your precarious position would want to make a sincere attempt to ingratiate yourself with her host."

"What would that entail?" she asked meekly.

"To begin with, you should abstain from acting like a petulant child. I have given you a unique opportunity, one I seldom offer, and yet you skulk about as if you are a prisoner."

"I apologize for my rudeness."

"Would you like to finish the book?"

"Yes."

"Then do so."

As Bane rose from the bed and left her abode, Kate let out a heavy sigh of relief. She had a defiant streak in her ever since she could remember, and sometimes that characteristic was to her detriment. Truth be told, she was happy for having survived the encounter with her neck still intact. If she was to continue to survive, she knew that she would have to learn to bite her tongue and check her belligerence at the door. She could not afford to submit to her rebellious urges when her anger and frustration got the better of her, not in Bane's presence at least. She knew if she could not practice obedience and restraint during her captivity, she would not live to tell about it.

The next day, Kate's muscles were on fire. A foreign pain invaded her body; her joints ached with every movement, no matter how insignificant. She did not think her workout was intense in the least, but her body indicated otherwise, as if it was punishing her for depriving it of exercise for years. It was shouting at her at the top of its lungs like a forlorn wife to a neglectful husband. The last thing she wanted to do was exercise, but she knew Barsad probably wouldn't be very sympathetic to her condition.

Not knowing whether or not Gotham had been eradicated was eating away at her. She knew it would not be the wisest course of action, but, for the sake of her sanity, she absolutely had to find out. Since she lacked the courage to ask Bane, she once again decided to press his second for information. Somewhere in the midst her reading session, he arrived.

"How go your duties?" she asked as she looked up from the book.

"That is none of your concern."

"I know. I was just making small talk."

"It is a fruitless activity, so why engage in it?"

"I don't know. I've never been a chatterbox, but now that I'm locked away from the world, I have this unyielding desire for conversation. Go figure."

"Solitude is beneficial to a person. You should use this time as a period of reflection."

"That's all I've done since I've been here. I'm all reflected out!"

He chuckled at her exasperation.

"I appreciate the fact that you do not find contentment in indolence, but your occupational skill set is restricted, you said so yourself. In order to be delegated with responsibility, both your mind and body must first be cultivated."

"Seriously, I know I'm not Wonder Woman or anything, but there has to be something around here I can do to pass the time."

"We cannot entrust an outsider with any sensitive information."

"So then don't trust me with sensitive information."

"Any job you could perform would expose you to information, and all information is sensitive. Matters of security are of the utmost importance."

"A skinny, unarmed woman with no idea where she is locked in a fortress full of armed zealots!" she quipped. "How much of a security risk could I possibly be?"

"We don't take chances."

"Well, I already know one piece of sensitive information," she teased.

"What?"

"Your name."

"Half of it."

"Where are you from?"

He looked at her. She knew he was about to hit her with his favorite phrase again.

"Oh come on, humor me just once. You can lie even, it's not like I'll know."

"You're very tenacious, I'll give you that," he smirked as he shook his head. "I'm from a place I'm sure you've never heard of."

"Small town boy?"

"You could say that."

"How in the world did you end up here?"

"You are most definitely not dragging that story out of me."

"It was worth a shot," she shrugged. "Will you please answer me just one question?"

"If it is prudent."

"Did the bomb go off?"

"I already told you it's none of your concern."

"What does is matter if I know?"

"I told you, all information is sensitive."

"Please, I'm begging you," she beseeched.

"Begging isn't going to get you anywhere. You think I'm going to betray a trust to appease some sniveling woman?"

"I'm not asking you betray anything."

It was hopeless; wild horses could not have dragged it out of him. She had to resign herself to the fact that she may never know the city's fate, at least for the time being.

"I don't see why it bothers you so much anyway. Your life there, for lack of a better word, sucked. It doesn't seem like you would harbor an enduring love for the place."

"Well I didn't want to see it blown to hell either."

"It was a breeding ground of corruption and injustice."

"Maybe so, but why not strive to improve things in a constructive manner? It beats burning everything to the ground."

"Reform without violence is virtually unheard of. Perhaps you should be brushing up on your history rather than indulging in fiction."

"I know enough about history to know that violence does nothing but beget more violence."

"From what I know of your background, you weren't exactly amongst your city's elite. In fact, quite the opposite was true."

"You're right, I wasn't."

"Yet you defend those who undoubtedly looked down on you, those you were forced to indenture yourself to. These are people who lied, cheated, and stole remorselessly and shamelessly, people who built their prosperity on the blood and sweat of people such as yourself."

"The guilty were many, I don't deny that. But the innocent far outnumbered the guilty."

"The loss of innocent life is not something we revel in, but casualties are an unavoidable reality of war. I know it may be difficult, but you must cut all ties with your former life if you are going to be integrated here. You're also going to have to can the ingratitude, unless you'd like to meet a premature demise."

"That's kind of hard to when you're kept in the dark about everything and treated like a prisoner."

"Would you like to know why I brought you here?"

"You didn't deem me deserving of perishing in a nuclear explosion after I helpedyour fearless leader?"

"That was part of the reason, but not my sole motivation. I saw something in you. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but I knew you were not like most of your lot, your precious Gothamites. If you were, you wouldn't have done what you did that day. You did what you did because, deep down, you know that our cause is just. I made the decision in the blink of an eye. I had to, time was limited. Not long ago, I began to question my decision to bring you here, doubt it even. For a period, I felt like an absolute fool for engaging in such recklessness. But when I discovered your history, my faith was somewhat renewed."

"Why is that?"

"You come from nothing, and we both know you were never going to be anything more than what you were in Gotham. But all that's history now, your old life is just a memory. You have been presented with an opportunity to reach your full potential. We're not some rag tag group of terrorists, nor are we primitive thugs who thrive on bloodshed. We do so much more than what you are aware of. I think you'd be surprised. I think with hard work and dedication on your part, you could be an invaluable asset in time. In turn, I think you could find a purpose here, a sense of true belonging. But it's not going to happen unless you really want it. We can attempt to indoctrinate you until the cows come home, but in the end, it's you who has to want it. It can't be forced, it has to be voluntary. We can't trust someone who is here against their will. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Yes."

"You wanted conversation, I just gave you an earful. What's your verdict?"

"You're right. My life in Gotham was shit, and it was never going to get any better. Actually, it probably would've gotten worse. All I do is repeat the same mistakes over and over again."

"That is a cycle you must break. Rather than repeating your mistakes, you must learn from them. I've been looking after you for a reason. I brought you here, so that means I have a vested interest in you. Your time will come, and when it does, you will be prepared for it. In the meantime, use your time wisely. You can exercise as much as you like. You've been permitted reading material, which is definitely not a luxury bestowed upon many recruits. I assure you, in time, you will know all you need to."

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

"What?"

"What if you're wrong about me? What if I can't live up to your expectations?"

"If you approach it with that defeatist attitude, you surely won't. I'm hoping that is a mistake you won't make again."

"How do you know I've had a defeatist attitude?"

"I know because I've been who you are and where you are. It was only when I cast aside my fears, doubts, and insecurities that I was able to rise above my former life. If you are to rise, you will have to do the same."

"How?"

"Take into consideration everything I've said to you to. Like I said, bide your time. And mind your tongue; insolence is not an endearing quality."

And with that, he took his leave. His words echoed in her mind throughout the evening. All this time, she thought he could care less about her, but apparently, she was wrong. He actually believed in her. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, fate had brought her to City Hall that day, that maybe she was destined to be exactly where she was.


	11. Chapter 10

Kate awoke a little before 9 the next morning, significantly later than her usual. The previous night had been fitful, her insomnia due to Barsad's version of a heart-to-heart. She mulled over his words for hours, played them over in her mind repeatedly throughout the night. She reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and began her morning routine. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was surprised to see him sitting at the foot of her bed.

"I knocked, but you obviously couldn't hear me."

"No morning duties?"

"Not today. Did you sleep well?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then I take it you gave some thought to our conversation."

"As I recall, you did most of the talking."

"I felt it was necessary."

"I thought about what you said for most of the night. As much as I appreciate your confidence, or whatever it is, in me, I can't possibly do what I know will be expected. I can't participate in murder."

"Your government has employed the use of mass murder on the grandest of scales since its inception. We have far less blood on our hands, yet you condone their actions and condemn ours."

"Who says I condone it? You don't see me working for the CIA, do you?"

"In your warped society, the immensely wealthy control everything, they flagrantly oppress those less fortunate. You, of all people, are all too aware of that fact."

"I don't know what you want from me here."

"I want you to free yourself of what you already know is false. I want you to be completely honest with yourself. It's only then that you will be able to see things as they truly are."

"I think you've misunderstood my motivation. And that's my fault, I haven't exactly been forthcoming. I want to remedy that now. I want to tell you why I did what I did, in regards to your leader."

"I'm intrigued," he said as he turned to face her.

"Back in Gotham, on my way home one night, a man attacked me. Just as the son of a bitch was about to rape me, Bane showed up out of the blue with some of your colleagues. They pulled the bastard off me. Then one of the men handed Bane a gun. I thought I was as good as dead. Just as I was preparing myself for my journey to the great beyond, he handed me the gun to kill the rapist. I wanted nothing more than to blow his fucking brains out, but I couldn't. I couldn't kill someone who was going to rape and maybe kill me just moments before. I didn't know whether to love or hate myself for that. Anyway, Bane removed my burden and killed the man. It was almost like he was doing for me what I couldn't do myself. I don't know really. I was more scared than I'd ever been my entire life. I think I was in shock. I don't remember exactly what went through my head at that time. I don't know why he did what he did, but I knew I was grateful. I felt indebted to him, and that's why I did what I did."

"I had no idea."

"I assumed not, seeing as you never brought it up. So am I going to pay for what I just told you?"

"You needn't worry. What you just divulged to me will not leave this room. You have my word."

"Thank you. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why someone who has no qualms about slaughtering thousands would come to the aid of one random stranger?"

"You speak of him as if he's some sort of depraved monster. He isn't."

"That's kind of the image he's projected in the last few months, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm going to educate you a bit. I may be completely crazy for doing so, but I feel it's necessary to your growth. I think it would be good for you to hear the truth for once."

"Now _I'm_ intrigued."

"First, you must give me your solemn oath you will never mention any part of what I'm about to tell you."

"I give you my word."

"First, you must understand, my allegiance lies solely with Bane, and it always will. That being said, I had some reservations in regard to your city's destruction."

"You do have a conscience."

"I thought it too rash, too merciless, but it was not my place to sow the seeds of discontent. I'm a soldier, it is not my place to question."

"It doesn't make any sense. He said he was going to give the city back to the people, which honestly didn't sound like a bad idea, if you ask me. Why go through all that trouble just to blow it up in the end?"

"The revolution was a sham, part of a bigger, more sinister plot. He wanted to give the people hope and then crush that hope. It truly is the most efficient way to destroy something."

"But why?"

"I'm getting there. Now, even after Bane was stabilized, we weren't sure he would live. Anyone else would have died. He was in pieces, and he'd lost a substantial amount of blood. He was in a coma for almost a month. We had nearly abandoned hope when he finally woke. He didn't mention you. Was he conscious when you found him?"

"Barely. I thought he was going to die right in front of me. If anything, I felt compelled to try to comfort him in his final moments because of what he did for me."

"He may have wanted to die. Needless to say, I'm glad he didn't. But make no mistake, he surely would have, had it not been for you picking up that phone and telling me what I needed to know. You did us a service, and I wanted to repay that. I wanted to give you the chance I was given many years ago."

"You said he may have wanted to die. Why?"

"The plan did not succeed. Gotham was saved in its final hour."

A rush of sheer relief permeated the very fiber of her being, but she wasn't about to let him bear witness to her happiness.

"How? I thought Pavel was the only one who could disarm the fusion reactor?"

"He was. It wasn't disarmed. Batman, the ever-present thorn in our sides, intercepted it and plunged it into the sea. Due to my position as second-in-command, the unenviable responsibility of informing Bane of what had happened fell to me."

"Why did Bane want to destroy the city?"

"His actions were on behalf of the leader of our organization."

"I don't understand. I thought Bane was the leader."

"He is now, but back in Gotham, another held that distinction. The city's destruction was engineered by our former leader, and Bane made it his life's work to see her plan come to fruition."

"Her? Your leader was a woman?"

"Yes."

His revelation was beyond stunning.

"Why did she want to blow up Gotham?"

"I've already shared more with you than I should have. I've told you what I have because you are severely misinformed. Now that I've shared some truth with you, I'm hoping you'll start to see things more clearly. Remember, everything I've told you must be kept in the strictest of confidence."

"How can I be sure what you've told me is the truth? You could be lying in order to sway me."

"Do you honestly think I would go through all this trouble just to mislead you?"

"Are you kidding? First you told you brought me here because I was hurt. Then you say you did it because you think I'm sympathetic to your cause. And now you're telling me it's because you want to repay me for my assistance. You've done nothing but mislead me since I've been here!"

"I didn't exactly have an abundance of time to think it through. It was an impulsive decision based on a combination of all those factors."

"So do you regret it...bringing me here?"

"I don't know yet. Whether or not I regret the decision depends solely on your actions."

"I don't want to let you down, but I can't promise I won't when I don't even know what will be expected of me. Bane knows firsthand I'm utterly incapable of killing. And despite your and his contrary assertions, that _is_ what you do."

"We take life only when it is deemed necessary."

"So who do you deem worthy of murder?"

"Anyone who has the potential to threaten or undermine our efforts."

"What are your efforts?"

"Whatever our leader deems appropriate and necessary."

"So it's a dictatorship?"

"Yes. All members are aware of that fact and accept it wholeheartedly. We are all here by our own choice."

"But why, Barsad? Why do you choose to follow someone so immoral?"

"You misjudge him. He's helped a great many people, myself included. He delivered me from a horrid existence."

"So because he saved your life, you think you owe him yours?"

"I wasn't forced into servitude; I pledged myself willingly."

"You don't strike me as a bad person. You must know, in the depths of your soul, that what you do is fundamentally wrong."

"You only believe that because you've been programmed by a morally ambiguous society. Once you've been fully enlightened, de-programmed, if you will, you will be able to see things as they truly are."

"You cannot honestly believe that just because you don't kill as many people as governmental regimes that your crimes are any less horrendous."

"We cannot achieve our goals without bloodshed. As unfortunate as it may be, it is a necessary evil. Your most alarming misconception is that you think everyone we kill is innocent. I'm not telling you anything you do not already know. You're attempting to refute the facts because you've tried to convince yourself that humanity is innately good even when you know the facts to be contradictory. Your internal conflict exists only because of the false morals your society has instilled in you. I was just like you long ago. True enlightenment doesn't happen overnight. It is a tempestuous process, a long journey, one that is worth it in the end. I believe you'll get there in time, just as I did. Speaking of time, it's getting late. I have to go. I'll be back later to take you to exercise."

"Okay."

"Oh, and you can have your meals in the kitchen from now on."

"Thanks for...you know."

"You're welcome. We have a certain degree of trust now, you and I. It's something I hope we can build upon."

She nodded in response.

After leaving Kate, Barsad went into the communications room where Bane awaited his arrival.

"How is our guest today?"

"She's on her way."

"How long before she will be ready for her first assignment?"

"It depends. What did you have in mind for that?"

"I've been giving some thought to having her accompany you on your next assignment."

"Which is?"

"It will take place in a week or two. I'll brief you on it well beforehand. In the meantime, she should be given more liberty. We cannot inspire her loyalty by treating her like an inmate."

"I told her she could eat in the kitchen from now on."

"Does she trust you?"

"Not completely. She's somewhat stubborn and set in her beliefs, but all in all, she was receptive. I think with some time, she'll come around."

"How confident are you of that?"

"As confident as I can be, under the circumstances."

"Barsad, you brought her here; that makes her your responsibility. Although I will not deny my misgivings about your decision, I take into consideration that you made it in haste. Therefore, I'm inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt. In preparing her for initiation, as you know, she will learn even more about us. Eventually, she will know so much that, if she fails, she will have to be disposed of. And if that happens, it will not be by my hands that she will meet her end. It will be at yours."

Barsad nodded to indicate his understanding of his commander's grim decree.

Bane left the control room, and Barsad was left to his own thoughts. A lump formed in the mercenary's throat. He was disquieted by his boss's unexpected declaration. He never imagined he would be the one to have to kill her if she failed. Despite his position, he didn't enjoy killing on a personal level; he derived no joy or thrill from the necessary acts. If he wanted his charge to live, he would have to do everything in his power to ensure her success. His words to her earlier regarding whether or not he regretted his decision suddenly took on a grave new meaning.


	12. Chapter 11

Kate awoke and glanced at her latest amenity. _7:32_. It had been a week to the day since Barsad spilled his guts to her. During that week, she had been granted a bit more freedom. She had been working out for up to two hours each day just to have something to do. She was no longer delivered meals and clothing daily. Instead, she was permitted to dine in the kitchen and provided with a sufficient wardrobe which she was entrusted to launder herself. After completing her morning routine, she headed to the kitchen, which was desolate as usual. She scoured the cupboards in search of something she had not yet sampled at one time or another, but had no such luck in the end. She ended her hunt after a minute or two and settled for generic corn flakes, a bran muffin, and a bottle of water.

She had hardly seen Bane during that week. She figured his absence was intentional, that he was giving her time to reflect on his surprising revelations. She still wasn't quite sure if his accounts were factual, and she had no way of finding out. In spite of her newfound liberties, it was abundantly clear that she was still an outsider, as no one besides Barsad, and more infrequently, Bane, had ever uttered a single word to her. In fact, her presence was ignored altogether by the other inhabitants of the compound. She felt like more of a ghost in the subterranean labyrinth than she had back in Gotham, a sentiment which previously she had never thought possible. As she approached her room, she discovered a note affixed to the door.

"_Miss Lowry,_

_I require your presence in the adjacent room_."

Kate shuddered as dread immediately set in. _This can't possibly be good_. She had a perfectly sensible fear of her warden, and her first and foremost one was invoking his ire and dying at his hand. What if he had decided she was no longer worth the trouble of keeping alive? She could feel her frantic heartbeat in her throat. She took one last deep breath and tried to mentally steel herself for what might come next as she ventured out of her room. She lightly rapped at his door, which opened soon afterward. She cautiously stepped into the lion's den, only to behold the lion seated at the desk in front of his sophisticated workstation. She stood in silence while waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. After a minute or two, she dared to speak.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked sheepishly.

He looked up from the monitor.

"Sit," he replied.

She obliged and sat down. He diverted his attention from whatever it was he was doing to his newly-arrived guest.

"I have a suitable task for you. It doesn't require much in the way of mental or physical acumen, but I think it is best if we start out slow."

"May I ask the details of this task?"

"It's very simple. I need you to accompany Barsad to an event. Your presence will make his cause more convincing."

"What kind of event?"

"It's a gathering of prosperous people. Surely that is an environment to which you are acclimated."

"I take it this event will take place outside these premises?"

"Yes."

"May I ask what will be required of me?"

"You will be briefed before you leave. I don't have to remind you of the consequences if you attempt anything brash, do I?"

"No."

"Excellent. He will collect you in the morning. Be ready by 7. You can go now."

Following Kate's departure, Bane met with Barsad to confer with him about the assignment.

"As you are well aware, our primary financial wells have dried up. We must find suitable replacements. You will meet with Armando Reyes in Barcelona tomorrow."

"Who is he?"

"He is a Spanish industrialist whose company specializes in biometrics. I need you to secure a transfer of funds from his company to our phantom account. After that, the money will be rerouted to the proper destinations."

"Forgive me, but my powers of persuasion aren't as effective as some."

"The deal has already been made. All you need to do is close it."

"Shouldn't the person who arranged it do that?"

Bane said nothing but his eyes told his first lieutenant everything he needed to know. It was obvious by his marked shift in demeanor that the dealmaker in question was none other than the recently departed Talia Al Ghul.

"Reyes is old-fashioned in the sense that he insists on conducting all business transactions face-to-face. He's also a former associate of the late John Daggett," replied Bane as he handed him a manila folder. "Everything you need to know about our newest investor and the meeting is there."

"I take it this is the mission you spoke of? The one which our new guest will play a part in?"

"Yes."

"You know I don't like to question, but…"

"You're going to anyway. What is it?"

"Is her presence really necessary?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"She will assist you in a performance. You will be playing the role of J. Richard Pierce, the sinfully wealthy president of Pierce Global Holdings. She will be posing as Amelia Pierce, your charming wife."

"Those names don't ring any bells."

"That is because they don't exist, nor does the company. Pierce Global Holdings is a fictitious company solely conceived to siphon funds from Wayne Enterprises. Since our access to that company has been terminated, we must stick our hose somewhere else."

"She doesn't have a clue about this, does she?"

"She knows she'll be accompanying you. As for informing her of the details of the assignment, I'm leaving that duty to you."

"You really think she can pass for some socialite?"

"You do not?"

"I'm not sure."

"All that will be required of her is presentation and perhaps a minimal amount of idle conversation. She has plenty of personal experience with pomposity. Besides, the man we are going to swindle is a fool, akin to Daggett. Her presence serves me twofold. In addition to impersonating Mrs. Pierce, she will be acting as my test subject."

"How's that?"

"I wish to conduct an experiment of sorts."

"To see if she'll try to escape?"

"Do you think she will?"

"I hope not."

"Something burdens you. What is it?" Bane's intuition was uncanny and frightening at times, even to his most trusted comrade.

"I think it may be too risky, taking her out so soon."

"Your faith in her wavers. Why?"

"She's scared. And as you know, fear is the most powerful emotion. It overrides all else."

"I believe her fear will work in our favor. I believe it will compel her to be fully compliant. I've made her keenly aware of the cost of any foolish attempts. Besides, I trust I've trained you better than to let an unarmed neophyte gain the upper hand over you."

"Of course."

"Be vigilant. Do not let her out of your sight. If anything goes awry in that regard, you know what to do. Just be sure to do it discreetly."

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow at 7 a.m. You will meet Mr. Reyes at the El Palace Hotel in Barcelona at 6 p.m. sharp. You will find all other pertinent information in that portfolio. That's all."

Barsad exited Bane's quarters and went to brief Kate. Just as he was about to barge in, he remembered his manners and lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"We're going out tomorrow."

"So I've heard. I hope you're going to fill me in more than he did."

"As of tomorrow morning, you're Amelia Pierce, loving wife of J. Richard Pierce."

"Who is he?"

"He's me. Or I'm him, rather."

"What?" she asked confusedly.

"Tomorrow, you and I are going to give the performances of our lives."

He handed her a piece of paper.

"All you need to know is there. Read it thoroughly. And skip your workout today. You need to memorize all of that information."

"Anything else?"

"That's it. Be ready by 7 tomorrow morning."

Kate studied the document intently. It was a condensed biography of Amelia Pierce was the 28-year-old wife of J. Richard Pierce, the head of Pierce Global Holdings, a global defense conglomerate. _Oh the irony_. She had been married to 38-year-old Richard for four years. Ivy League educated, she held a B.S. from Brown University and an M.B.A. from the prestigious Tuck School of Business Administration at Dartmouth College. Her passions included philanthropy, tennis, fine art, horseback riding, and her husband Richard, '_my candle in the storm_.' Kate rolled her eyes at the hokey metaphor. So that was to be her first assignment: to impersonate a woman to whom she would have served hors d'oeuvres back in Gotham.

"It could be worse," she sighed as she continued to read about the fabulous life of Mrs. Pierce. She studied her new reading material conscientiously until she passed out close to midnight.

Kate's alarm went off at 6 the following morning. She wanted to ensure she would have enough time to ready herself for the trip. She gathered all of her clothes, as she didn't know how long of a trip she was about to embark on. Her courier showed up ten minutes early looking decidedly less rough around the edges. In fact, he looked undeniably attractive. His face was clean-shaven and his militaristic garb was replaced by a light blue button-down shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

"Ready to embark on our little adventure?"

"Absolutely, my darling Richard," she said in her most phony, pretentious voice.

"This mission is of the utmost importance. It is imperative that you take it seriously," he warned.

"I was only kidding. Jeez, would it kill you to lighten up for once?"

"I'll lighten up a little if you come through tonight. Deal?"

"Deal. Should I bring clothes?"

"No need, we'll be back tonight. You'll be fitted with appropriate attire when we arrive. We'd better get going."

He led the way as Kate followed his path of the buried maze. After about five minutes, they arrived at the exit. He punched a series of numbers into the keypad above the knob, and the door buzzed open at once. Once her eyes adjusted, she surveyed the terrain before them. It was desert as far as her eyes could see, a vast nothingness she had never witnessed before. The weather was brutally hot, the sun merciless, its radiance much too intense for her weakened eyes to handle. She had not realized until then how sensitive she had become to sunlight after being completely deprived of it for a month and a half. Bane was right; she wouldn't last a day out there.

Kate was so preoccupied with assessing the environment that she failed to notice the charter plane to the right of the compound until its engine revved. She had no idea they would be flying. She had never even been on a plane before. Barsad directed her to board first. There were four other men on board whom she had never seen before. Each of them were dressed in the familiar style and armed with pistols. They all shot her cold, steely glances as she advanced down the aisle.

There were six seats on each side of the aisle. The mercenaries were huddled together at the rear of the aircraft, so she thought it sensible to give them a wide berth. It was only when she reached the front of the plane that the back of that unmistakable head came into view. _Bane_ The possibility that he would accompany them had never even crossed her mind. He was seated in the very first seat on the left side of the aisle. She knew she had gone too far. The last thing she wanted to do was invade his space, as he didn't seem like the type who would ever want company.

She turned and looked at Barsad, who was seated in the fourth seat from the front on the left side. He gave her a look as if to say 'Sit down.' She hesitated briefly and then turned and sat down in the third seat from the front on the right side. She glanced over at the unexpected passenger, who was immersed in browsing over various documents. That nervous feeling took hold of her once again. During their pithy conversation the day before, Bane failed to mention the fact that he would be going on this trip. Was there more to it than she was told? Her paranoia was quickly getting the best of her. She inhaled and exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. Unfortunately, her breathing exercises were audible, and the reason for her increased anxiety took immediate notice. He peered at her over his shoulder just before leaving his seat.

"I believe you are forgetting something."

"What?"

"Your seatbelt."

"Oh…right." She was so overcome with anxiety due to his conspicuous presence that she had completely forgotten to fasten it. The shadow of his enormous form consumed her own as she anxiously fumbled for the seatbelt. He sensed her apprehension and knelt beside his nerve-wracked travel companion. She noticed his shift in position and brought her eyes to meet his.

"If you are this nervous now, how on earth on you going to carry out what I've tasked you with?" he asked softly.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you tense about the flight?"

"Sort of."

"You've never flown before?"

She shook her head.

"The flight should be a smooth one. You have nothing to fear."

She nodded in agreement.

He reached over and buckled the seatbelt for her. She looked down at his hands as they brushed lightly against her waist.

"If you should feel ill, the lavatory is at the back on the left."

She nodded again, and again, she was transfixed by his eyes. She became so lost in them that she sometimes forgot who he was and what he had done. Strangely enough, having eye contact with him did not make her feel uncomfortable as it had with everyone else. His eyes exhibited a sadness that seemed uncharacteristic for a man like him. He lightly tapped her left hand in an attempt to ameliorate her uneasiness. The touch of his skin was soft and surprisingly pleasant. She couldn't help but feel special in that moment.

"Thank you," she said appreciatively.

He then returned to his seat and resumed reading.

She found his kind gesture reassuring, but she couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security. Despite her suspicion, her nervousness diminished, and she felt calmer than she had in a while. A few minutes later, the plane took off, and she tilted her seat back in the hopes of catching a nap.

Approximately four hours after disembarking, the plane touched down in a remote field. The landing roused Kate from her nap. Upon arrival, she rose from her seat and stretched. Barsad motioned for her to follow him, and Bane and the other four men remained on board.

A black Navigator awaited them outside the plane. Barsad took the front passenger seat, and Kate took the back. Both Barsad and the driver were completely silent throughout the entire drive. After about 45 minutes of nothing but trees and winding roads, they finally arrived in a large city. Due to the profusion of road signs, it didn't take her long to figure out that their destination was Barcelona.

"So what's the plan?"

"First, we've got to get some clothes."

"Now you're talking," Kate said with a smile.

The driver delivered them to the Armani Exchange in the very heart of Barcelona. Kate had known for a while how the other half lived, but she never thought she would ever be in a position to actually experience it. In the face of her uncertain future, she decided to squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of this unanticipated detour.

The employees of the high-end establishment catered to 'Mr. and Mrs. Pierce's' every whim. Barsad spoke perfect Spanish and instructed them to take care of Kate first. She was shown a succession of gorgeous, ridiculously expensive dresses. She noticed that he didn't let her out of his sight once, not even when he was being fitted for a tuxedo.

Their next stop was a full-service salon, where Kate received a head-to-toe makeover which included a much-needed cut and styling, a full facial and makeup job, a manicure and a pedicure. While she relished every second of being pampered, Barsad was sitting across the salon watching her like a hawk. He was on his phone more often than not, probably giving his master the blow-by-blow. After her transformation was complete, they checked into the opulent El Palace Hotel shortly after 4.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait. The meeting isn't until 6."

"Who are we meeting?"

"A very rich man."

"I thought Bane hated rich men."

"He does, which is why he uses their very wealth to destroy them."

"Is that what you're going to do to this man?"

"No, we're just going to rob him blind. Speaking of which, I've got some work to do on that front."

He placed a laptop on the table in the dining area and went to work. Kate decided it probably wouldn't be wise to inquire about what he was doing, so she watched TV for the first time in months. Due to the locale, every program was in Spanish, and she therefore could not decipher a single word. In spite of the language barrier, she enjoyed the comfort provided by the familiar medium. By 5:30, her cohort had completed his clandestine online activities.

"We'll be meeting our investor in the ballroom promptly at 6. From what I know about him, he'll most likely want to engage in some niceties before getting down to business. All you have to do is follow my lead. You are not to speak unless either he or I address you. Understood?"

Her nod signified that she did.

"Are you nervous?" he inquired.

"A little."

"A touch of apprehension is a good thing; it shows you're taking your task seriously. But keep in mind, our charade must be completely convincing, and it most certainly won't be if you're visibly agitated. Failure is not an option. Did you memorize all of the information?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now get dressed. We leave in 20 minutes."

Kate did as she was bid. The bathroom was nearly the size of her old apartment. The dress she had chosen was a strapless black floor length gown; simple, yet elegant. A pair of embellished black strappy heels completed the look. Her appearance was so polished she almost didn't recognize herself in the mirror. Upon exiting the bathroom, she found her stoic companion in his tuxedo.

"You clean up nice," she complimented.

"As do you, though you shouldn't admire such extravagance. It's unbecoming."

"Talk about not being able to take a compliment," she quipped.

"One more thing," he said as he retrieved a container which looked like a jewelry box. He opened it and pulled out the most exquisite diamond necklace she had ever seen in her life.

"Oh my God!" she gasped.

He gave her his familiar look of dissatisfaction.

"I know, I know…unbecoming."

"Don't get too excited. It's just for appearance. No one as filthy rich as Amelia Pierce would be caught dead in public unadorned. There are earrings in there too."

Kate quickly applied the finishing touches of her disguise before following him out the door of the suite.

The unlikely duo made their way to the grand ballroom of the lavish hotel. The place exuded decadence, a definite throwback to some of the places Kate had frequented as a server in her old life back in Gotham. Rich golden tapestries accented the windows, and the lush carpeting featured a luxurious blue and gold filigree pattern. A succession of the finest of chandeliers descended from the cloud-painted ceiling. Their deceptive getups allowed them to blend right in with the rich and distinguished.

Kate had spent enough time amongst the so-called elite to know how to play her role to perfection. Arm in arm with her 'husband,' she held her head high and wore an understated, toothless smile as her eyes scanned the auditorium. She was the picture of poise and confidence. Several men rubbernecked at the statuesque brunette, much to the chagrin of their wives who were not shy about demonstrating their disapproval. After a few minutes, Barsad spotted his target. They made a beeline to a balding, middle-aged Spaniard of medium height.

"Mr. Pierce, I presume?"

"Mr. Reyes, so good of you to come. May I present my wife, Amelia," he said as he presented his dazzling coconspirator.

"Mrs. Pierce, this room pales in comparison to your loveliness," Reyes said as he kissed her hand in a chivalrous fashion.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Reyes, to finally meet you. And please, call me Amelia."

"Only if you call me Armando. My dear, the pleasure is incumbently mine. Shall we dine before getting down to the, how do you say, 'nitty gritty?'"

Kate looked to Barsad, who she could tell was somewhat uneasy. Judging by the look on his face, she deduced that dinner was not one of the niceties he had anticipated. She knew her 'husband' wanted to get right down to the business of conning the unsuspecting mogul out of millions of dollars. Nonetheless, they both knew they were in no position to refuse his amiability.

"A splendid idea, Armando. I'm absolutely famished," Kate interjected. "Darling?"

"A wonderful idea."

"Please," Reyes replied as he signaled the way.

They were immediately seated at one of the many elegant tables. There was one thing Kate was not being dishonest about; she really was famished, and she knew her accessory had to be as well. Since Reyes insisted on picking up the tab, they thanklessly indulged in the fine fare. Amidst the meal, Reyes continued to engage them in mindless drivel.

"Tell me, Mr. Pierce, is this your first time in Barcelona?"

"Actually, yes. I've been to Madrid several times for business purposes, but we had yet to make it to your fine city, until today, that is. You have my sincere appreciation for the opportunity."

"Aah. It's, how do you say, 'better late than never,' eh?"

"Indeed."

"Tell me, do you enjoy the beach, Amelia?"

"There are few things in life I enjoy more, Armando. In fact, we must take a coastal holiday soon, Richard, as my complexion has become ghastly pale."

"Then I suggest the Riviera. Our country has some of the finest beaches in the world."

"That is a most gracious gesture, Mr. Reyes, but I have business in the States that, unfortunately, precludes any additional travel at this time."

"Business first. A wise tenet, one that I myself live by. Of course, when we meet again, you must allow me the pleasure of offering you my travel itinerary."

"We look forward to it."

"Would one of you enlighten me as to how two such charming people came together in the world?"

Kate knew she shouldn't answer, given Barsad's explicit instructions, but she had a hunch that romantic encounters weren't exactly his area of expertise, so she threw caution to the wind.

"I'd be delighted," Kate responded before her 'husband' could say a word. "It was five years ago next month. I was on holiday in St. Tropez, which, if you've never been, you simply must, by the way."

"I've vacationed there several times. Beautiful beaches as well."

"Indeed. I had just left my hotel on my way to a tennis lesson. I was running frightfully late, so I was in a terrible rush. Just as I approached the tennis court, I took a misstep and turned my ankle. All of a sudden, a man rushed over to assist me. I looked up, but I couldn't see his face, as the sun all but blocked it out. He helped me back to my hotel, and we spent the rest of the day together. We've been together ever since."

She gave him the most authentic look of love she could possibly muster. He smiled back at her convincingly.

"What a marvelous story!"

"Now that we've finished dining, shall we get down to business, Mr. Reyes?"

"On one condition, Mr. Pierce."

"What's that?"

"Only if you allow me a waltz with your enchanting bride."

Barsad did his best to play it cool and conceal his reservations. He knew that if he acquiesced to the unforeseeable request, he would undoubtedly jeopardize the mission. All she needed to blow their cover was a few seconds alone with their prey. He thought this plan was a bad idea from the beginning, and this turn of events served as irrefutable proof that his opinion was correct. He should have come alone. Bane's little experiment was about to blow up in their faces, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. They had already suffered more than enough setbacks, another failed mission was the last thing they needed. In fact, a failure of such a magnitude could very well be the final nail in their proverbial coffins. Contrarily, he knew that if he denied Reyes what he had asked, the declination itself would appear too suspicious. He didn't have any more time to think about it, as he had taken too much already.

"What say you, my love?" he asked calmly.

"I'm afraid my waltz is a little rusty."

Her response was an understatement. She couldn't pull off a decent waltz if her life depended on it, which it very much did.

"Not to worry, my dear. I'm an excellent leader, or so I have been told. She'll be in good hands, Mr. Pierce."

She looked to Barsad as if to ask him what to do. He had no choice but to defer to his 'wife.'

"In that case, I'd be delighted," replied Kate.

As Reyes led her to the dance floor, she turned to look at Barsad, whose countenance displayed a look of quiet desperation. He knew with every fiber of his being that she was going to use the opportunity to her advantage. At any moment, she was going to inform Reyes that she was a most unwilling participant of the fraud they were attempting to perpetrate and subsequently attempt an escape. If that happened, he knew what he had to do.

As Kate cut a rug with the incognizant entrepreneur, she contemplated what to do. She knew any attempt to alert her ebullient dance partner would be immediately detected by Barsad, as they were still well within his sights. If he was armed, which he most assuredly was, he was likely to shoot them both at the slightest hint that something was amiss. She hoped against hope that Reyes would keep his mouth shut for the duration of their dance, as any speech on her part could be perceived as sabotage.

As the music continued, Kate began to consider her options. An opportunity had presented itself, and she knew one like this would not come along again any time soon. If she wanted her freedom, she had to make a move. It was do or die; she had to make a decision and she had to make it fast. As she scanned the majestic ballroom in search of the nearest exit, a familiar feeling came over her as her attention was refocused on the people who surrounded her. She studied their contrived expressions, their profligate clothing, and their haughty demeanors as the pace of her environment was reduced to a slow motion. She knew these people all too well. Her geographical location may have changed, but the people around her had not. These people were mirror images of those she sold herself to in order to eke out a meager living in Gotham. In an instant, her mind was overwhelmed with memories of her former life. She recalled many long nights she spent catering to the whims of the well-to-do. She remembered how ashamed and embarrassed they always made her feel, how they complained about anything and everything, and how cold and rude they treated anyone they deemed less than themselves.

She thought about the conversation she had with Barsad just a week earlier. She told him that her life in Gotham sucked and that it would probably only deteriorate as time progressed. She knew that conclusion was entirely accurate. She had no family or friends to depend on if times got hard. She did have one friend, Jane, but what did she really know about her, aside from the fact that she was a stripper from Missouri with a prescription drug habit who had shown alarmingly poor judgment by risking her life and that of her supposed friend for a guy who may very well have ditched her, either for someone else or just for the hell of it. In the midst of planning her escape, reality hit her like a ton of bricks.

The truth was harsh, but Kate knew she could no longer afford to deny it. There was nothing in Gotham for her; there never had been, and there never would be. At that moment, she realized she had not been presented with just one opportunity, but two. She could risk her life to return to a place for which she felt nothing but contempt and disappointment, or she could finish her dance with Reyes and embrace the new life Bane had offered her. By the time the song concluded, she had made her decision.

Armando Reyes and Amelia Pierce made their way back to their table where Mr. Pierce anxiously awaited their return. He rose from his sea as the pair approached.

"I must say, Armando, your former dance partners were certainly right about you. I don't believe I've ever had a finer lead," she said as she beamed at the businessman.

"And you, my dear, are as graceful as I imagined," responded Reyes. The financier leaned in and planted two kisses on both of Kate's cheeks in the familiar ritualistic manner, and she reciprocated.

"The gods have smiled on you, Mr. Pierce. Your wife is a treasure."

"Indeed she is," said Barsad with a smile that almost seemed genuine.

"Well, I suppose it's about time we get down to business then," said Reyes. "That is, of course, after we escort your stunning wife back to your suite."

"That is quite generous, Armando. Though I must say, I had hoped you wouldn't deprive me of your charming company just yet," said Kate with a smile, hoping to persuade their host to rescind his inconvenient proposition.

"In that case, my dear, I must insist that you join us. This way, please."

The trio departed the ballroom and made their way to the investor's suite. When they arrived, both Barsad and Reyes set up their respective laptops. Kate assumed they were engaging in some sort of money transfer.

"I was profoundly regretful to hear of the passing of Mr. Daggett and Ms. Tate. Terrible tragedies, really. Needless to say, Gotham is no longer a setting in which I care to conduct business. A most perilous city, indeed."

The first name Reyes mentioned didn't ring a bell, but the second was familiar to Kate. After a few seconds of thought, she placed it. The sudden topic of the conversation was one of the few stuffy elitists that had most always shown her appreciation of the serving staff. She supposed that made perfect sense, as Tate was one of Gotham's most generous philanthropists. Her death was news to Kate, but then again, she wasn't exactly up-to-date on outside occurrences as of late. She couldn't help but wonder if Miss Tate had met her demise at Bane's hands. After all, she was one of the city's wealthiest, most prominent residents, and Kate knew all too well what her benefactor liked to do to them.

"You've no cause for concern there. My headquarters is based in Houston, a safe distance from Gotham's recent volatility."

"That is very reassuring."

The men engaged in more business chatter a while longer before the deal was finally closed.

"Mr. Reyes, it was more than a pleasure doing business with you. I know our partnership will be most fruitful and extremely gratifying," he said as the two men shook hands.

"You echo my sentiments, Mr. Pierce. It was a pleasure to meet you both. Amelia, may I say, your graceful presence has made this evening all the more enjoyable."

"Armando, you are too kind. I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I, my dear," responded Reyes as he kissed her hand again. "I do hope you both enjoy the remainder of your stay."

"We absolutely intend to. Good night, Mr. Reyes."

"Buenas noches, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce."

The remainder of their stay encompassed all of 20 minutes. As soon as they gathered their personal effects from their suite, the con artists made haste and swiftly checked out of the hotel. The same black Navigator from earlier picked them up at the door and shuttled the swindlers back to the plane. During the ride back, Kate noticed Barsad staring at her out of the corner of her eye. After a few minutes of his continuous gawking, she could withstand it no longer.

"What?"

He wanted to thank her for what she had done, or rather, hadn't done, but decided against it at the last second. He continued his search for the appropriate words.

"You thought I was going to blow it, didn't you?"

"I won't deny, the thought did cross my mind."

"Were you surprised when I didn't?"

"Pleasantly," he said with a smile that nearly bowled her over.

"I was pretty good, wasn't I?" she asked with a hint of pleasure in her voice as she looked at him.

"You were impeccable."

"You know, I think I may have found my true calling."

"Conning rich idiots?"

"I was referring to acting," she said with a wide grin.

"I'm just curious. Did you even think about it?"

"What? A daring escape attempt?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe for a minute."

"What made you decide against it?"

"I thought about our conversation, particularly the part where we touched on my lousy life. I realized there's nothing for me in Gotham. There hasn't been for a long time. I finally have a shot at something else; I figured I might as well take it."

"I think that's the right decision."

"It's not like you're biased or anything," she said facetiously.

They arrived back at the plane a bit after 8. Bane was still seated at the front of the plane, and his minions were still at the back. Barsad sat next to his boss in order to give the latter an in-depth report of the day's developments. Kate took her original seat and was sure to buckle her seat this time. Though the dress was somewhat constricting, she managed to get another nap in anyway.


	13. Chapter 12

After arriving back at the compound, Kate wanted to relish her elegant appearance one last time before changing for bed. After removing the gown and jewels, she let her hair down from its sweeping updo and changed back into her usual attire, which on that day consisted of a white V-neck tee and a black pair of yoga pants. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was startled by a distinctive voice.

"I thought I might find you asleep."

"I guess I slept too much on the plane."

"I'm told your performance is to be commended."

"So I take it this was my first test."

"You're very perceptive."

"Does that surprise you?"

"Your performance or your perceptiveness?"

"Both."

"Not at all."

"So did I pass?"

"With flying colors."

"You know, I thought about trying to escape. But then I realized something."

"Which was?"

"That there's nothing for me in Gotham, and that I have no desire to go back there."

"That assessment is quite logical, though I cannot help but wonder about the sincerity of your words. This supposed epiphany could be just another performance similar to the one you put on so convincingly earlier this evening."

"You don't believe me?"

"Trust is not earned on the basis of one satisfactory performance. But the operation was a success, and you share in the credit."

"Thanks for saying so, but I suspect you didn't come just to congratulate me," she said as she looked down at the contents of her hands.

"I know you loathe exorbitance, and so do I, for the most part. But I've never had the privilege of wearing such fine things before, so I hope you'll forgive me for enjoying them just a little."

"I've no use for a dress, Miss Lowry. You may keep it."

"That's very generous of you."

"The jewelry, on the other hand, I will have to confiscate."

She stepped towards him to give him what he came for. His right hand featured the familiar brace she had never seen it without. As she placed the necklace and earrings in his extended hand, her hand grazed his. She was surprised at how much she noticed the nominal contact. She observed that it was the second time she had experienced his touch, and she really didn't know why she took notice of something so trivial.

He gave her a slight nod before taking his leave. He was the textbook definition of a man of few words, and Kate felt fortunate that the few directed towards her had so far been cordial for the most part. After all, congeniality was the last thing she had expected from him, given his cold, calculating reputation.

Following his recovery of the jewelry, Bane retired to his quarters in the early hours of the morning. As he eagerly anticipated sleep, his mind was plagued with vexing thoughts. The majority of these cerebrations concerned his dearly departed Talia. He was not having an easy time coming to terms with the fact that the person to whom he had dedicated more than half his life was gone forever. Everything he had done for the past 25 years had been for her benefit. Under her leadership, the death of their nemesis Bruce Wayne and the total decimation of his beloved city became the League's, and therefore Bane's, sole mission. With her gone, so too, was her successor's sense of purpose and direction. Although he took solace in the fact that their primary target had ultimately perished, that feeling of satisfaction paled in comparison to the overwhelming sense of grief that stemmed from loss of the only person with whom he had ever felt a genuine connection, the only person he had ever truly loved.

Talia al Ghul had been Bane's reason for living since the day she was born. She was just a babe in the womb when her mother was inhumanely cast into the infernal pit of Peña Dura, an infamous South American penitentiary located in the Atacama Desert of Peru. When Talia's mother was 18, she met and fell in love with a mercenary employed by her father, a Peruvian warlord notorious for his barbarity. When her father discovered their secret romance, he banished the mercenary to the harshest reaches of the desert. As punishment for what he perceived as a grave indiscretion, he condemned his only daughter to rot in the bowels of the earth alongside the most vile criminals the world had ever seen.

Bane was 15 years old when Talia's mother was lowered into the pit. He both sympathized and identified with the young woman, as his was a tale of similar tragic circumstances. The illegitimate son of an English mercenary, Bane was abandoned by his father, Edmund, shortly after his birth. He was raised solely by his mother, Elena, a kind but destitute young Argentinian woman. In his first decade of life, he and his mother lived a nomadic but happy existence. With her precocious young son in tow, the young mother traveled throughout South America, accepting work wherever she could find it. Bane never had the opportunity to experience formal education due to his mother's itinerant lifestyle, but he was an enthusiastic student nonetheless. His mother's utmost concern besides his health and safety was her son's education. Despite limited means and her own lack of formal learning, she always made sure his mind was properly nurtured. He had a voracious appetite for learning, and his mother encouraged him every chance she got. She made sure he always had a book to read, and he never seemed to mind that his books were torn and tattered.

After a relatively peaceful ten years, their lives took a turn for the worse. Bane's father reentered their lives unexpectedly while his mother was working as a maid in Chile. Armed with false promises of remorse and reform, the shrewd mercenary was able to worm his way back into the lives of his unsuspecting former lover and child. So convinced that she was in the presence of a truly changed and repentant man, Elena extended her former lover complete forgiveness. After two uninterrupted and predominantly harmonious years, Edmund proposed marriage, and Elena joyously accepted. That was, without a doubt, the happiest time of her life; she was married to the only man she had ever loved, and her precious son was reunited with his father. What the two didn't know was that they were just pawns in the man's despicable game of deception.

Bane's father had been a criminal his entire adult life. He wasn't forced into a life of crime because of abject poverty or inopportunity; he willfully chose an existence of lawlessness and immorality for the sheer thrill. By the time he was 40, however, he knew the law was catching up to him. After a night of drunken gambling, he was apprehended outside of a bar in Chile. His record of offenses was seemingly endless, and he was tried and convicted the same day. Just when it seemed he would pay the price for his life of misconduct, he absconded from justice yet again, leaving his new bride and son to pay the price for his sins.

After much restless introspection and reflection, Bane's thoughts turned to another woman, the one who was probably sound asleep in the adjoining room. He knew his prospective initiate was right about one thing; she was not cut out for his line of work. She was no killer, and no amount of training and coercion would ever change that. At the end of the day, murder was indeed the League's forte.

Perhaps above all else, Bane was a man of practicality. He knew the woman's presence served no useful purpose whatsoever. In fact, she very much had the potential to become a hindrance to their operation if she ever managed to escape. Barsad's reckless decision to bring her to their refuge had put him in a potentially perilous position, and he had grown somewhat contemptuous of his lieutenant's misjudgment as a result. One way to remedy the situation would be to simply kill her. She had no family, he rationalized; there would be no one to miss her. As pragmatic as the idea was, he could never seem to seriously entertain it for very long. The fact that she had been such a crucial part of his survival never seemed to be too far from his mind. He knew that if anyone else had found him, they would have been more than happy to hasten his end. Most would have doused him in gasoline, set him ablaze, and danced merrily around his corpse. The fact that she aided him when he was at his most vulnerable affected him in an inexplicable way. He knew she felt obligated after what he had done for her back in Gotham, she had said so, but he also knew that one random act of kindness towards a dejected citizen would not have been enough to compensate for the devastation he had inflicted upon the city.

He briefly contemplated freeing her, but dismissed the notion the second it crossed his mind. The world thought him dead, and he needed to ensure it stayed that way. If he released her, she could alert the authorities to his survival, and he would be relentlessly hunted for the rest of his life. He was not about to risk his freedom for anyone, especially not some woman whose life was effectively inconsequential to him.

As Bane's somnolence was disrupted by his inconvenient ruminations, sleep was also eluding the secondary subject of his musings. Kate recalled what Barsad told her about the plan to destroy Gotham. He said it had not been Bane's plan, but that of the former leader of their organization, who just so happened to be a woman. She wondered about this woman; who she was and, more importantly, her connection to Bane. Could it be possible that he loved this woman? Could that have been his reason for leading her campaign of destruction? It had to be, she reasoned. Why else would he have chosen to willingly sacrifice his life? Still, it was hard for to imagine Bane loving anyone. After mulling it over for far too long, Kate vowed to not waste one more thought on her captor and instead focused her efforts on catching some sleep.

Kate slept in without shame the following morning. She figured she deserved it since her Oscar-worthy portrayal of a vacuous socialite had been an integral part of the daring fraud they managed to pull off so successfully the night before. Despite the delectable four course meal she had enjoyed courtesy of Reyes, her appetite upon awakening was stronger than usual, so much so that she even postponed her shower in order to make a breakfast run. She strode through her makeshift domicile as if she hadn't a care in the world. She was fully aware that she undoubtedly looked like hell, having fallen asleep without washing off her makeup. Still, she figured there was no cause for concern, as she had never ran into anyone in the consistently barren kitchen. So needless to say, she was floored when she saw none other than Barsad seated at one of the tables. Under any other circumstance, she would be mortified, but she knew her appearance was of no consequence to him nor anyone else in Bane's inner circle.

"Morning."

"So it is. What are you doing here?"

"Eating," he asked as he gestured to his food.

"I've never seen you eat in here before."

"There's a first time for everything."

Kate followed suit and grabbed the usual rations.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Be my guest."

She poured milk on her cereal and waited for him to speak. Before she knew it, she had finished both her cereal and orange without a single word from her breakfast companion. She figured it was for the best, as she didn't want to make a fool of herself by talking with a mouth full of food.

"So how much money did you steal from Reyes?"

"Enough."

"Could you be a bit more specific in terms of a dollar amount?"

"No."

"Have I ever told you that you're no fun?"

"I never claimed to be."

"You told me you do a lot more than murder and embezzle, but so far that's all I've seen. Mind giving me a few examples?"

"You already know too much already. At this point, it's hard to say where the League will go from here."

"The League?"

"The League of Shadows."

"Sounds like a bunch of ninjas."

"What did I say about insolence?" he admonished.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll come up with something just as diabolical as your former aspiration."

"I like your raccoon look, by the way."

"Ha-ha," she responded and rolled her eyes. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"I'm working the graveyard shift tonight."

"I was referring to my agenda."

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

"More reading, eh? Ugh, I'm so sick of being cooped up in that damn room all the time."

"You don't have to stay in there all day, you know."

"Yeah, well it's not like there's a bevy of activities out here just waiting for me. I can only work out for so long. I guess I shouldn't complain though. I'm sure I'm going to long for my lazy days when I'm going through this basic training of yours."

"It's not so bad as long as you're in shape, which you will be by the time it gets underway."

"When will that be?"

"Whenever Bane decides you're ready. It shouldn't be too much longer now."

"So what will you be doing on the graveyard shift tonight?"

"Manning the control room."

"Just you?"

"Just me."

"What does manning the control room encompass exactly?"

"Monitoring surveillance footage, keeping tabs on the news, communicating with global contacts…"

"Watching Internet porn," she cut him off humorously.

"Nothing salacious is permitted in the control room, I assure you."

"Whatever you say, Barsad. Anyway, sounds like a lonely job. Want some company?"

"The reason it's only me is because it's a one man job. There's no need for a second person."

"But it would be a good learning experience, wouldn't it? After all, that's something I'll be doing eventually, right?"

"I suppose."

"Besides, you'll be doing me a favor by getting out of my room for a night."

"Are you kidding? You were in another country just last night," he reminded her.

"Yeah, and look at what just one night of freedom's done for my sense of adventure. So what do you say?"

"I'll run it by Bane. If he okays it, I'll come by your room at 11."

"Do you think he'll okay it?"

"We'll see."

"We did make a pretty good team, didn't we?"

"Yes, I suppose we did."

"Well," she sighed "I need a shower. So if you don't come by at 11…"

"Then you can prepare for a full night of either reading or sleeping."

"Fair enough."

Kate retreated back to her room to wash away the final remnants of last night's events. Her taut body craved a long hot bath, but it wasn't an option seeing as her bathroom was equipped only with a shower stall. As she caught a glimpse of her reflection, she was a bit taken aback by her disheveled appearance. She really did look like a raccoon. The professionally-applied cosmetics that made her look the best she ever had the previous night had been reduced to a mottled mess during her bout of slumber.

As she showered, Barsad headed to Bane's quarters for their daily conference and to relay his charge's request.

"I'm pleased to report that the funds you so shrewdly acquired have been deposited into the proper accounts."

"How long do you think it'll take him to discover our deception?"

"Difficult to say. If he's vigilant, it's possible he already knows. Not the most ambitious heist we've orchestrated, but considerable nonetheless. Combined with the remaining monies from previous 'investors,' we now have enough money to sustain us for a few more years at minimum."

"Glad to hear it."

"Do you have anything?"

"Just one thing; a request from our newest recruit."

"Let me guess. She thinks she's entitled to some sort of reward for successfully completing her first assignment?"

"Not exactly. I mentioned I was working third shift tonight, and she asked if she could shadow me."

"What do you think?"

"I think it would be a good learning experience for her."

"And her golden opportunity to make contact with the outside world," Bane hypothesized as he fidgeted with a piece of string.

"I'll be watching her every minute."

"Are you going to take her to the bathroom with you too?"

"Every computer in there requires a password, and no two are the same. She's not a security risk. Besides, I doubt she'll want to hang around the whole night. She just wants to get out of her room for a while."

"Your faith in her appears to be restored."

"I believe her to be genuine."

"Very well. She can observe you, but perform a full security check first. Ensure that no passwords or other restricted information have been left out in the open. Be thorough, and take every precaution. I don't want any unpleasant surprises."

"You have my word."

After her shower, Kate curled up with her book. She had read more than half of Dostoevsky's thought-provoking masterpiece by then, having spent virtually all of her spare time with her nose in it. It was a riveting composition that was rife with symbolism and explored themes of alienation and superiority along with those of its title. Indeed, she found it to be a page turner and had regretted not discovering it sooner. She probably would have had she attended college, as she assumed it was most likely required reading of introductory English classes. By the time she was ready for an evening nap, she had finished the classic tale. Before lying down, she set the alarm for 10:30 in the hopes that she would be spending the early hours of the morning learning the ropes of the control room.

Upon waking from her nap, she decided it would be a good idea to freshen up. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she examined herself in the mirror. She consciously avoided it most of the time, as she knew her appearance was decidedly lacking without the benefit of makeup. Going without mascara and eyeliner didn't bother her so much, and she had never been a big fan of lipstick, but she felt absolutely naked and downright unattractive without her foundation and finishing powder to even out her fair skin tone. Thankfully she had received a much needed hair trim and eyebrow wax while in Barcelona, both of which provided slight boosts to her self-esteem where her appearance was concerned. As she was applying a fresh coat of deodorant, she heard what she was hoping for.

"Come in."

"I hope you took a nap because you're going to be up for a while."

"Sure did, just got up," she replied gladly.

"Are you ready?"

"Lead the way."

"What's your first name?" Kate asked as they traversed through the compound.

"Fishing for information already, I see."

"I'm just trying to learn all I can about my new employer, that's all."

"Learning here is done strictly on a need-to-know basis. You'll not be supplied with any superfluous information."

The communications room really was a sight to behold. Equipped with the most up-to-date technological equipment known to man, it looked like a room straight out of the Pentagon.

"This is incredible," she remarked as she surveyed the intricate system. "With a setup like this, it's no wonder you were able to conquer an entire city. So are first names officially off limits around here?"

"Not officially, but we typically refer to one another by surname."

"Why?"

"I don't know the exact reason. It's just the way it's always been."

"What's Bane's real name?"

"I don't know. He never told me."

"Wouldn't it be ironic if it was something really geeky?" she joked.

"In-so-lence," he enunciated in a playful voice.

After half an hour of watching and waiting, Kate decided to strike up another conversation.

"This really is a mundane job."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious."

"So you do have a sense of humor!" she said in astonishment. "I was beginning to think you'd traded it for a membership in Bane's club."

"I told you you'd be bored."

"So why are you doing it then? You're second-in-command, you could pawn this off on some low-ranking underling."

"I don't mind it. Actually, I volunteer for it when I can."

"Why?"

"It affords me solitude, which is in short supply in a bunker full of people."

"So my presence is kind of defeating your purpose, huh? Why didn't you turn me down then?"

"After the way you came through the other night, I thought you deserved it."

"You know, underneath that heartless mercenary façade, you're all right sometimes."

"I don't know whether that's an insult or a compliment."

"Let's say it's a little of both. I'm kind of hungry. Do you care if I grab something from the kitchen really quick?"

"Not as long as you bring me something."

"Thanks. I'll be right back."

While Kate was working on satisfying their hunger, a Breaking News alert on one of the monitors caught Barsad's eye. A slender, salt and pepper-haired man in his mid to late 50s strolled out from behind the stage onto a podium.

"Ladies, gentlemen, members of the press, I'd like to extend our sincere thanks for your attention this evening. My name is Robert Donnelly, and I serve as the Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security. As you all know, the Department, in a joint effort with the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Terrorist Task Force, has spearheaded the ongoing investigation of the terrorist attack upon and subsequent occupation of Gotham City which ended just over two months ago.

"I'd like to begin this evening by commending the citizens of that great city. During these past few months, many members of the Department, myself included, have spent a great deal of time among you. There are no adequate words to describe the degree of loss and tragedy you have endured. Your indomitable spirit has left an indelible mark on the world, and it is from that which the global community draws great strength and hope for the future. To the citizens of Gotham, I say this: We stand with you resolutely in the wake of this terrible tragedy. We will never forget your strength, resolve, and determination in the face of darkness. Your resilience has inspired and continues to inspire each and every one of us.

Under the leadership of newly appointed Commissioner Michael Ross, the Gotham Police Department has been utterly indispensable in this investigation. Although the investigation is now operating primarily at the federal level, we could not have progressed without the dedicated assistance of the fine men and women who have served so valiantly. On behalf of the entire department, I commend Gotham's police force for their heroic acts during the occupation, as well as their outstanding efforts towards the pursuit of justice in its aftermath.

I'm pleased to report that as of this evening, we have 37 of the suspected perpetrators in custody. In addition, GPD has apprehended 129 of the escaped inmates from Blackgate Penitentiary. Based on eyewitness accounts, the leader of the coup, the terrorist known only as Bane, is presumed dead. However, as of tonight, efforts to locate his corpse have been unsuccessful. Lacking concrete evidence of his expiration, it is entirely possible that he may have survived and be at large as we speak. That is why the Department of Homeland Security, in conjunction with the FBI, is hereby issuing a $5 million reward for information leading to either the discovery of irrefutable evidence of his death or Bane himself, if he indeed lives. Dead or alive, this nation's most heinous criminal must be found, and we will not rest until that goal is realized. That's all I have for now, Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you and good night."

As the flash bulbs clicked away and the reporters clamored for more information, the Secretary and his entourage exited the stage. Barsad went to intercept Kate who was surely en route from the kitchen by that time. The news he had just received was most disturbing and highly sensitive, and his charge becoming privy to it was one of the last things he needed. Just as he turned the first corner, she came into his sights, her arms cradling two bottles of water and an assortment of snack foods.

"I don't know what you like, so I brought a little of everything," she said as he came within earshot.

As she approached him, he took her arm and changed their course of direction.

"What the hell? What are you doing?"

"There's a situation in the control room. I need you to go back to your room."

"What kind of situation?"

"Just some equipment failure. Nothing serious, but I need to call in the tech team to fix it."

"Can I come back after they've fixed it?"

"Not tonight."

"But why? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing like that," he assured her as the came to her door. "I'm sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to it."

"Rain check?"

"We'll see. Now I'm going to lock your door from the outside."

"Why?"

"It's just a security precaution. There's no cause for concern."

He deposited Kate inside her room and locked the door behind him. He took out his cellphone from the pocket of his vest and called his boss to alert him of the unsettling development. On the first ring, he answered.

"Yes."

"We have a situation."

"My office, five minutes."

Bane rose from his bed and prepared to receive his lieutenant, who was at his door in two minutes.

If he had been anyone else, Bane would have been shaken at the very least. But fear was not an emotion that could be evoked in him; he had abandoned any and all fear a long time ago. He had not felt even the slightest hint of fear since his days in the pit. The only thing he felt in the wake of the news was mild annoyance. As fearless a man as he was, he was also a practical and sensible one. Five million dollars was enough money to motivate most anyone to hand him over to the authorities, perhaps even one of his own disciples. He had barely escaped the ruins of Gotham with his life, and although he was in mourning and lacked a sense of direction at the moment, he wasn't about to jeopardize his freedom for anyone or anything.

"I take it Miss Lowry knows about this."

"No. She was in the kitchen at the time. I intercepted her before she returned and escorted her back to her room."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm sure you aroused her suspicion. What did you tell her?"

"That the control room was experiencing technical difficulties. I locked her door just in case curiosity got the best of her."

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"I'm not sure. I think most everyone's asleep."

"Well, they'll know soon enough. And I'm afraid my trust is rather deficient in the wake of this news bulletin."

"You know I'd never sell you to the Feds, not for any amount of money."

"I don't doubt your loyalty, but can the same be said for every inhabitant of this compound?"

"You think one of our own would betray you?"

"The concept has crossed my mind in these last minutes."

"Everyone here has been a member of the League for years. Only our most devoted dwell here."

"Even so, $5 million is a tremendous sum of money. It would be a temptation for nearly anyone. It seems I have only two courses of action at this juncture."

"Which are?"

"Purge this facility or flee."

Barsad stared at his savior, but could muster no words in response to his shocking assertion. His silence spoke volumes, and the look on his face conveyed his stark disapproval.

"Speak, Barsad."

"With all due respect, I find your first suggestion highly objectionable."

"You would deem it a monstrous act?"

"I would."

"Interesting. I find that somewhat inconsistent considering you didn't so much as flinch at the prospect of leveling an entire city just a few months ago."

"They were nameless, faceless strangers, most of whom were guilty to one degree or another. This is different. These are the people who have pledged their lives to you, people who have served you faithfully for many years without question. This is the League we're talking about."

"I appreciate your candor on this matter. And in the spirit of that transparency, I'm going to speak very freely to you now."

Bane encroached upon his lieutenant's personal space.

"I spent 15 miserable years in prison. I was forced to make my home in a place which could be unfavorably compared to hell, under conditions more deplorable than the human mind is capable of imagining. I knew I would die there; it was the only thing of which I was entirely sure. On the day I was delivered from that veritable abyss, I vowed that regardless of what became of me, I would never again lose my freedom. _**I **_am the League of Shadows. Not Talia al Ghul, not these sleeping soldiers, not you. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, brother?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now ready the plane."

"Do you want me to call Decker?"

"No. I'll fly it myself. The last thing I need is someone abreast of my whereabouts."

"And things here?"

"You will take command of headquarters in my absence."

"Where will you go?"

"I will operate from an undisclosed location. I will contact you upon arrival."

Barsad nodded and made his way to the door. Just as he was about to exit, his commander made a startling proclamation.

"Miss Lowry will come with me. Ready her for transport."

"Why would you take her? She'll be a burden you don't need right now."

"That may be true to a certain extent, but I may find myself in a position where I need leverage. She will act as an insurance policy, so to speak."

"You're going to use her as a hostage?"

"Your most recent acquisition has proven quite useless thus far. She might as well serve a purpose at long last."

Barsad nodded again to indicate his compliance before going next door to collect Kate, who he knew would be upset at being uprooted and carted off to an unknown destination in the middle of the night. He unlocked her door and entered without knocking.

"Gather your things," he demanded as he tossed her a black duffle bag.

"What? Why?"

"You're leaving."

"Does this have something to do with what happened in the control room?"

"Just pack, and be quick about it."

"You're seriously freaking me out. What's going on?"

"There's no time for questions, just do as I say!" he demanded in a higher octave to let her know he meant business.

Kate rose from the bed and awkwardly began to collect what few belongings she had been given. After gathering her clothing from the drawers of the nightstand, she went to the bathroom to retrieve her toiletries. He led her from the room, and they began the long journey through the empty halls and partitions of the secret complex.

"Please tell me what's happening," she pleaded in a worried voice.

"You're asking me something I can't answer."

"More like you just don't want to answer," she countered.

"You're going somewhere with Bane. I don't know where, so don't ask."

She knew something terribly amiss was going on. She also knew he would never tell her what it was. They continued in silence until they reached the exit. He entered the passcode into the keypad, and they went outside to where the plane was being readied for takeoff.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more," he apologized.

"That makes two of us."

A short interlude of silence followed, the only noise being hum of the plane's engine.

"I'm not coming back, am I?"

"I honestly don't know. I'd tell you if I did."

"And to think, I thought everything was going to work out," she lamented.

"Don't let this get the best of you. Just be agreeable, and do as he says," he advised.

"If he was planning to kill me, would you tell me?"

"Yes, I would."

With tears in her eyes, she nodded and attempted to compose herself.

"What would you do if I bolted right here, right now?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you would do if I made a run for it right now," she insisted.

"I would shoot you."

"That's what I thought. You know what? You're nothing but a spineless fucking puppet, and I'm sorry I ever met you," she castigated him through a veil of tears.

With those final cutting words, she ran onto the plane and never looked back.

**Author's Note****: Finally, another chapter. So sorry it took me so long. I proofread this one several times, but I may have missed an error or two. If I did, I apologize (please point any out to me, and I'll be sure to fix them). As always, reads, follows, faves, and reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks so much for all the support, it means more than you know :)**


	14. Chapter 13

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 16, three days after liberation (approximately two months prior to Chapter 12)**

It was going on 5 o'clock, and Jane Mitchell's patience was wearing thin. She had been at the Gotham Police Department for nearly three hours and still had not been seen. The lobby was packed wall-to-wall with people from all walks of life. Most were there to report a missing loved one, or in some doubly unfortunate cases, more than one.

Jane's reason for being there was the same as everyone else's; she had neither seen nor heard from her friend Kate in the three days since they went to City Hall to look for Jane's boyfriend, Kyle. Kyle too was missing in action, but Jane couldn't report him so because he was also an escaped fugitive from Blackgate Penitentiary. In the span of only two days, she had lost the two people closest to her. Nearly a week later, she was no closer to finding either one.

"Jane Mitchell?"

"Yes. Finally," she murmured in relief as she rushed over to the man who had called her name.

"Will Garris," he introduced himself as he extended his hand to Jane.

"Good to meet you," she said as she shook his hand.

Jane followed the detective to his desk. Approximately 6' tall with an average build, he looked to Jane to be in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. They each sat down and got down to business.

"What can I do for you today, Ms. Mitchell?"

"It's Miss. I need to file a Missing Persons Report."

"Unfortunately, that's something we're seeing far too much of. Disturbing but not surprising in the wake of recent events. What is your relationship to the missing person?"

"I'm a friend."

"I'm sorry, Miss Mitchell, but only a family member can file an MRP."

"What? What kind of bullshit rule is that?"

"That would be a police bullshit rule. Friends come and go from each other's lives all the time, it's a fact of life."

"Look, she doesn't have any family. If she does, they're not a part of her life. And they sure as hell wouldn't know if she was missing."

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"So if someone doesn't have family, they're not important; it's no big deal if they disappear?!"

"Miss Mitchell, I don't write the laws, I just enforce them. Now if there's nothing else, I've got a lot more people to see this afternoon."

"So fucking typical! You come to the cops for help, and you get the door slammed in your face. She could have been kidnapped. Hell, she could be dead for all we know, and you could give a shit! Thanks a lot, _Detective_," she angrily chided him as she grabbed her coat and purse.

Jane stormed out of the police department and started home. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt each and every time she thought of her lost friend. After all, if it hadn't been for her, Kate wouldn't be missing. It was Jane who had so selfishly put her friend in harm's way without a second thought. She should never have gone to City Hall to search for Kyle; she regretted her foolish decision since making it three days prior. The memory of that fateful day had haunted her every waking moment since.

_After becoming separated from Kate, Jane frantically searched the raging crowd for her wayward boyfriend without success. She had a difficult time navigating through the mass of combatants and was knocked around relentlessly. Luckily, she was able to find safety in the portico of an abandoned store. After the battle had been won and the riot quelled, Jane resumed her search, which as a result of losing Kate, became twofold. War had come to Gotham that day, its streets served as the battlefield, and they were littered with casualties in the aftermath. Jane ruefully surveyed the damage while searching for her friend and lover. She felt a sense of relief each time she discovered that the corpse in front of her was not that of one of her loved ones. Once reinforcements arrived, the scene was cordoned off, and Jane had no choice but abandon her search. Rather than going home, Jane stopped at Kate's apartment in the hopes that she might be there. Much to her disappointment, the place was empty. She fell asleep there that night, hoping against hope that her friend would come home safe._

That night didn't get much better for Detective Will Garris. Despite assisting numerous Gothamites, he couldn't shake from his mind the one person he had turned away; the feisty, foul-mouthed Jane Mitchell. The young woman's predicament gnawed at him throughout that particularly taxing evening. Regardless of her ineligibility to file a report, she was still a citizen with knowledge of a disappearance. And now he was aware that there was a young woman from his city missing with no family to miss her.

Will Garris was a 12-year veteran of the Gotham Police Department. Beginning his career as a beat cop at 26, he found himself on the fast track to detective after busting a drug ring operated by a breakaway faction of the Maroni organized crime syndicate. During his tenure at the department, Garris had seen both the very best and very worst sides of humanity. A consummate professional from the very start, he devoted his life to making the streets a safe place for the good people of Gotham.

It was due to his fervid commitment to justice that he couldn't get the spurned citizen off of his already overburdened mind. He decided he would pay Jane Mitchell a visit the next day, even if for no other reason than to clear his conscience. He obtained her completed paperwork that night before heading home from the precinct.

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 17, four days after liberation**

"Miss Mitchell?" inquired Garris after he knocked on the door.

"Who's there?"

"Detective Garris. We met the other day at headquarters."

Jane cracked her door.

"What do you want?"

"I want to help you find your friend."

"You said I can't file an MRP on Katie because I'm not a relative. Sounds like I hit a pretty big brick wall to me."

"That's true. Now I would usually never advocate any form of dishonesty, but in this case, it could be our only option."

"What do you mean?"

"As a friend, you can't report your friend missing. But if you were, say a cousin, you'd be legally permitted to do so."

"You're telling me to lie?"

"I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm simply making a suggestion to a citizen in need of assistance."

She stared at him suspiciously for a few moments.

"Is this on the level?"

"I'm sympathetic to your plight. I wouldn't be here if I weren't."

"I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday."

"Don't worry about it. I've had far worse."

"Thanks."

"I just so happen to have a spare MRP on me. We can fill it out right here, if you like."

"Come on in."

Garris obliged and entered Jane's apartment.

"Can I get you some water?"

"No thank you. What's your friend's full name?"

"Kate Lowry. I don't know her middle name."

"How old is she?"

"25."

"Do you know her date of birth?"

"No."

"How long have you known Kate?"

"A couple of months."

"Where did you meet her?"

"At work."

"Where's that?"

"The Garden of Eden."

"What did she do there?"

"I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"Three days ago."

"Where was she when you saw her last?"

"She was at City Hall with me."

"What you were doing at City Hall?"

"We were looking for someone."

"Who were you looking for?"

"My boyfriend. He was missing, I thought he might be there."

"What is his name?"

"Is that really pertinent?"

"Yes, it is."

"Kyle."

"You're being evasive, Miss Mitchell. Is there a reason?"

"I've already caused enough trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"If it wasn't for me, Katie wouldn't have been there that day, and she wouldn't be missing."

"You feel responsible for her disappearance?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Did you ask her to accompany you to City Hall?"

"No. She insisted on coming with me. She didn't want me to go alone," Jane admitted tearfully.

"Do you need a minute?"

"No, I'm fine."

"So you two were looking for your boyfriend. Why did you think he might be at City Hall?"

"I heard him mention it on the phone a couple days earlier."

"Miss Mitchell, was your boyfriend a part of the terrorist group?"

"I don't know. I suspected he might be, but I wasn't sure."

"Did you find him?"

"No."

"Okay. Tell me exactly what happened the last time you saw Miss Lowry. You need to be completely forthcoming, I want every detail."

"We went to City Hall to look for my boyfriend. Just a few minutes after we got there, the cops showed up, and all hell broke loose. Katie grabbed me and insisted we leave, but I didn't listen. I ran into the crowd to continue looking for my boyfriend. I made my way out of the fighting and hid in an entryway until it was over. After that, I looked for both of them until more cops showed up and sealed off the area. I went back to Katie's apartment, hoping she'd be there. She wasn't, so I waited. I fell asleep there that night. When I woke up the next day, she still hadn't come home. I waited at her apartment a couple more days, and then I went to file the report."

"All right. The first thing I need to do is verify her identity. We'll have to go back to the station for that. We can go now if you're available."

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's go."

Garris drove them back to the department in his unmarked squad car. The lobby was once again filled to capacity with people eager to register their missing relatives with the police. He escorted Jane back to his work station and began searching the city's records for her missing friend. After a few minutes of browsing, he hit pay dirt.

"Katharine R. Lowry, 25, 1824 East Laurel," Garris announced as he shifted the monitor into Jane's line of sight.

"That's her."

"Now that I have a photograph," he hesitated.

"What?"

"I can't sugar coat this for you, Miss Mitchell. The first step in this process is to check the local morgues to see if any bodies match the description."

Jane choked up a little and nodded. Garris handed her a tissue in silence and gave her a minute to regain her composure.

"Come on, let's get you home," he said as he rose from his desk.

The ride back to Jane's apartment was marked by complete silence from both passengers. The young woman's pain was written all over her face, and the hardened detective couldn't help feeling bad for her.

"Here," he said as he handed his phone to Jane. "Put your number in."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for your help," said Jane as she handed him back his phone.

"Just doing my job. Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Detective."

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 20, one week after liberation**

Jane's heart skipped a beat when her phone rang the following Monday.

"Hello?"

"Miss Mitchell?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"I have some good news."

"You didn't find Katie at the morgue?!"

"No bodies at any of the morgues match her description."

"Oh, thank God!" Jane exclaimed in sheer relief.

"We're not in the clear on that. I'll have to check back every few days."

"I know."

"I need to search her residence for any clues to her disappearance. I'm headed there now. I'd also like to speak with her coworkers at your club. When's your next night off?"

"You're safe, I don't work there anymore."

"Oh, I just assumed… well, I can't say that's a bad thing."

"Don't worry about it. Call me if you find anything, okay?"

"Will do," said Garris as he ended the call.

When Garris arrived at Kate's apartment, he immediately noticed the door had been kicked in. He drew his pistol from his holster and entered the apartment with caution.

"GPD! If there's anyone in this apartment, show yourself now!" the detective warned.

Once he cleared the first room, Garris ventured into the kitchen prepared to deal with any intruders. After checking the kitchen, he went down the hall to the last room, which was the bathroom. He rested his firearm at his side once he was certain there was no one in the apartment. The place was completely cleaned out, not a trace of Kate's existence had been left behind save a few pieces of furniture. He contemplated whether the robbery was connected to the woman's disappearance or if it was just a random coincidence. Times were tough in Gotham due to the blockades, and a tenantless apartment stocked with possessions would have been a temptation for most anyone.

Upon returning to headquarters after coming up empty handed at Kate's apartment, Garris ran her name through the National Crime Information Center database. The absent woman had no criminal history, which also meant that her fingerprints were not on file. Her bank account contained a paltry $148, and the last use of her debit card took place on October 17 of the previous year, the very day Bane had made his ominous debut at the Stock Exchange. She had no records with the DMV, and no active credit cards were listed in her name.

Garris also managed to dig up some information on Kate's troubled parents. Prior to the occupation, her father David was incarcerated for grand larceny and possession of drug paraphernalia. He had joined his fellow prisoners in the mass exodus from Blackgate and had not been recaptured. He had a lengthy record that consisted of mostly misdemeanors, save his most recent convictions which were Class 2 felonies. He contacted her mother Karen's last known address, a halfway house just outside the Narrows, but the director informed him that she had left the shelter a few weeks before the coup and had not returned since. Shortly after 7, he decided to call it a day and headed home for the evening.

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 21, eight days after liberation**

After devoting the morning to working on his other cases, Garris called Jane to report his findings.

"Miss Mitchell?"

"What's up?"

"Nothing much, sorry to say. Kate's apartment was robbed, nothing left behind except for some furniture."

"Great," Jane sighed in frustration.

"Look, I'm of no use at all without my noon caffeine fix. How about grabbing some coffee while we try to sort this all out?

"All right. Where?"

"What's close to you?"

"Um, there's a diner down the street, Amico's. On the corner of 5th and Pine."

"I know right where it is. Can you meet me in say, half an hour?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

The place Jane selected was a small, old-fashioned diner on the outskirts of Midtown that had just reopened its doors. Jane had a strong affinity for the eatery's cozy atmosphere, amiable wait staff, and exceptionally potent espresso. After they were served, Garris continued to probe her for information.

"Do you know if Kate was in contact with anyone besides you and your boyfriend during the occupation? Did she have any other friends, acquaintances, romantic connections?"

"Not that I know of. She never mentioned anyone."

"What about money? Were you knowledgeable of her financial situation when she disappeared?"

"She had a little money saved up from the club, I did too. The city was shut down, so it's not like there was an abundance of places to spend it."

"How did you acquire food?"

"There were plenty of abandoned homes and stores. We took what we could when we needed it. What about you? How did you get by?"

"I was out of town when the lockdown took place."

"Weren't you the lucky one?"

"The day you came to the precinct was my first day back on the job."

"Let me guess…vacation in Tahiti?"

"More like court in Pennsylvania."

"Even so, you dodged a bullet. So how long have you been a cop?"

"12 years."

"I'll bet you've seen pretty much all there is to see."

"I certainly hope so. You mentioned that Kate's family is out of the picture. Do you know anything about them?"

"No, she never mentioned them. She said she moved around a lot when she was a kid. I got the feeling that her family was a source of pain for her. I suspect that's why she didn't talk about them. I didn't want to pry."

"How much time did you two spend together?"

"Well, we worked together, and we hung out a lot after work."

"What about your boyfriend? Did he know Kate?"

"Yeah, all three of us hung out at my apartment."

"You became somewhat reticent when I asked about your boyfriend. You said you suspected he may have been in league with the insurgents. Why did you suspect that?"

"I don't know if 'suspected' is the right word. I just feared that he was."

"Still, there would have to be a reason to fear it, something that gave you that particular inclination. Is it safe to assume that your boyfriend was one of the inmates released from Blackgate?"

"Yeah, it's safe to assume that."

"Have you seen or heard from him since the liberation?"

"No."

"I hope you're telling me the truth. I don't think I have to remind you that aiding and abetting a known felon is a serious offense punishable by up to five years in prison."

"I haven't seen or heard from him, and I have no idea where he is. You think I'd lie to you considering you're bending your own rules to help me?"

"I would hope not."

"But seeing as how most everyone in Blackgate was there because of a bill which turned out to be based on complete and utter bullshit, I don't see how you can justify rounding them all up and throwing them back in there."

"The fact that the Dent Act was duplicitous doesn't negate the fact that all of those men are convicted criminals."

"Still, I think Gordon ought to be in a Blackgate cell himself."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, Miss Mitchell, we're not here to discuss your opinion of the justice system."

"Sorry."

"Did Kate ever mention anything else about her past?"

"She told me she worked at some stuffy catering company for rich people before the takeover."

"How did she seem just before she vanished? What was her demeanor like?"

"As good as it could be under the circumstances. Katie was the nervous type, but she was still pretty good at holding it all together, even after…"

"After what?"

"Even after she was almost raped."

"Kate was sexually assaulted?"

"Almost, yeah."

"When did this happen?"

"Shortly before Christmas."

"Were you with her when the attack occurred?"

"No."

"But she confided you in?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me everything she told you."

"We walked home together like we always did. My place was closer, so she was alone after I arrived home. Some piece of shit she danced for at the club grabbed her, put a knife to her throat. Luckily someone showed up and put a stop to it."

"She was incredibly fortunate. It's nice to know that there was at least one person in occupied Gotham brave enough to do the right thing."

Jane let out a sardonic laugh that perplexed Garris.

"Did I say something funny?"

"No, it's just that…well, I doubt you'd be saying that if you knew who came to her rescue."

"Who was it, Miss Mitchell?"

"Bane."

"Excuse me?"

"Bane saved Katie from being raped."

"You're putting me on?"

"Nope."

"So let me clarify this. You're telling me that the most ruthless criminal this nation has ever seen prevented your friend from being sexually assaulted? That is what she told you?"

"Yes."

"Did she know him? Personally, I mean?"

"No. She was terrified at first. She thought he was going to kill her."

"Why didn't you tell me this right away?"

"I don't know. I guess I didn't think about it at the time."

"What exactly did he do?"

"He gave Katie a gun and told her to shoot the guy. She couldn't go through with it, so he killed the guy himself."

Garris sighed heavily.

"What are you thinking?"

"Your friend was nearly raped when the city was occupied by terrorists. She then found herself face-to-face with the terrorist mastermind himself. It is entirely plausible that the ordeal traumatized her. She may have suffered a complete mental breakdown as a result."

"But she was fine the last time I saw her."

"Sometimes the reaction to a trauma can be delayed. A person may remain functional for days, even weeks before the break occurs."

"So you're saying she could be out there roaming the streets talking to people who aren't there?"

"We can't rule anything out at this point. Did she divulge any other details about the incident, anything at all?"

"No, I told you everything she told me."

"Can you describe her attacker?"

"I didn't see him."

"Please tell me the club has surveillance?"

"Yeah."

"Good, that's my next stop."

"Why?"

"The attacker will be on the surveillance footage. I need to view that footage in order to obtain a description."

"He's already dead. What good's he gonna do you?"

"You just informed me of a murder, Miss Mitchell. I'm bound by duty to make every attempt to locate the body."

"Murder! Are you kidding me? That asshole tried to rape my friend! He probably would've killed her if he'd been given the chance. So excuse me for not giving a fuck where the son of a bitch is rotting!"

"You're excused. However, I do give a fuck. Murder is murder, even in the face of mitigating circumstances. And _especially_ when the perpetrator of said murder just so happens to be the wanted man on the planet!"

"I thought Bane was dead?"

"His body hasn't been found, which could very well mean that he's alive."

"But still, you know the rapist is dead, and you know who killed him. Case closed!"

"Not without a body it isn't."

"So what? Now you're going to quit looking for Katie and instead scour the city for some dead rapist?"

"Of course not. But in light of what you've just revealed to me, the scope of this investigation has widened drastically, and I have to respond accordingly."

"Can't you call in another detective or something?"

"That would be premature at this point. Look, as a cop, I'm obligated to follow every lead. And regardless of your objections, this is a lead."

"I'm sorry Garris," Jane apologized. "I don't even know which end's up anymore."

"You're overwrought, and understandably so. I'm not insinuating that the deceased assailant takes precedence over your friend by any means."

"I know. I don't know what I'd be without your help. I do have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth, don't I?"

"Yes you do, but I won't hold it against you."

"What's the success rate of missing persons cases?"

"Let's just say that the statistics aren't very comforting and leave it at that."

"What does your gut say? Do you think she's dead?"

"I really can't speculate on that. I'm going to take you home now, and after that I'm going to go do my job. I'll call you with anything new. In the meantime, try not to drive yourself crazy over it. Stay busy, keep your mind occupied."

"Please find her, Garris," Jane pleaded vehemently.

"I will do everything in my power, Miss Mitchell. You have my word."

**Author's Note**:** Ah, the plot thickens, as this chapter featured the reappearance of one character and the debut of another. The next chapter will pick up once again in the present. Hope the time shift didn't cause any confusion. On a side note, I just passed the 100 mark on reviews, and I can't thank you all enough for taking the time to share your thoughts on the story.**


	15. Chapter 14

Kate took a seat in the plane's center and deposited her bag in the neighboring chair. She tried to calm herself, but her efforts were to no avail. At any moment she expected to hear the trudging of Bane and his goons onto the readying aircraft. Just as she was becoming lost in fear and uncertainty, she was startled by a sudden noise that originated from the front of the plane rather than the rear as she was expecting. She was beyond shocked when she saw Bane emerge from the cockpit. He strode with authority to the back door and pulled it shut. She tried to bite her tongue as he filed past her as if she was invisible, but as usual, curiosity got the best of her.

"Where are we going?" she asked with a slight stammer.

"I have neither the time nor patience for your inquiries," he cautioned. "I suggest you sit back and relax. And don't forget your seatbelt."

During the flight, Kate racked her weary mind trying to figure out what was going on, but came up empty handed every time. An endless plethora of questions ceaselessly plagued her. Where were they going? Why was Bane flying the plane? Why were they the only two passengers? What had really happened in the communications room? She became more anxious as the minutes slowly turned into hours. She attempted to occupy herself in order to quell her overwhelming nervousness. After takeoff, she paced back and forth intermittently in an attempt to prevent her mind from venturing into dangerous territory. It was, quite literally, an exercise in futility. Betwixt her pacing sessions, she feverishly nibbled on her already short fingernails.

She knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep, but adjusted her seat to a reclined position anyway. She laid back and attempted to forget her circumstances for the time being. She tried to focus on something, anything other than masked terrorists, underground bunkers, and mysterious, impromptu flights. After four nerve-wracking hours, the plane began its descent.

The aircraft touched down in a remote field. Judging from the grassy terrain and dreary climate, she figured they were somewhere in Europe, but could only surmise exactly which country. As the aircraft's speed slowed considerably, she noticed it was slowly becoming engulfed in darkness. She looked out one of the windows and realized they were entering a hangar. After several moments, the conspicuous pilot emerged carrying several heavily packed black bags. She clutched her belongings and cast a worried gaze as he steadily approached her. He definitely had more on his mind than his traveling companion's anxiety at that moment. She quickly retrieved her clothing and waited in anticipation for him to say something, anything.

"The first phase of our journey has concluded. We will now continue on land. There is no time to lose. You wouldn't be as foolish as to try anything brash, would you?"

Kate's mouth felt like cotton, and the lump that had formed in her throat added to her overall discomfort. She was so riddled with anxiety during the flight that it hadn't even occurred to her to fetch a drink of water from the rest area. She was dying to blurt out another question, even prepared to beg if necessary, but after briefly assessing his demeanor, she decided that pressing him would be unwise and subsequently ditched the idea. She shook her head to signify a negative response.

"Good, then I won't have to use this," he replied as he revealed his sidearm. "Ladies first," he said as he motioned towards the door.

Kate carefully made her way down the steps as Bane followed closely behind. Her eyes settled onto what appeared to be an automobile covered by a dusty tarp. Bane quickly removed the vehicle's covering and entered the driver's side. Their new mode of transportation was a black, late-model Land Rover equipped with tinted windows; a necessary feature, she supposed, for the world's most wanted and recognizable fugitive. He pulled a small remote control from his jacket pocket and pressed a button which opened the door of the hangar. After exiting the hangar, he pressed the button again to seal its entrance.

The improbable pair traveled over a field for about five minutes until the uneven ground gave way to a two-lane road. The road signs were scarce, and the ridiculous speed at which Bane drove made them nearly impossible to make out. In the end, she supposed it didn't really matter where they were; she was completely at his mercy, and there wasn't a thing she could do to change it.

She caught a sly peek of him with her peripheral vision and again found herself wondering about the visage beneath the mask. As soon as she realized her furtive glance was on the verge of becoming a full-fledged stare, she averted her eyes and directed them to the road once again.

As they continued the second leg of the trip, Kate's anxiety reached its pinnacle. A series of knots formed in the pit of her stomach, and she clutched the duffle bag seated on her lap like a child holding onto her favorite stuffed toy. A nauseous feeling took hold, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from vomiting. She desperately tried to calm herself by counting to ten slowly and silently. Unfortunately, Bane's ever observant nature caused him to take notice of his passenger's perturbed state. Without diverting his gaze from the road, he spoke.

"Are you going to be ill?"

"I'm fine," she replied breathily.

"You are not gifted in the art of deception. If you need me to pull over, say so, and I will accommodate you."

"I'll be fine."

"Relax. I'm not shuttling you to your final resting place."

"That's a relief," Kate replied as she exhaled deeply.

After about an hour of driving, their journey reached its end when Bane steered the Land Rover off the road into a remote wooded area. The vehicle careened down a dirt path and arrived at its final destination: a quaint, picturesque cabin nestled deep among the trees. It was definitely a step up from the stuffy bunker, Kate silently observed. Bane unlocked the door, and they entered the new lodging. The timber cottage was evocative of an actual home, perhaps a place to which a young couple might retreat on a weekend getaway. The living room of the rustic dwelling contained a couch, coffee table, a large TV, and a fireplace.

"The room at the end of the hall is yours. The kitchen," he pointed, "through that door. The bathroom is the first door on the right in the corridor. It's the only one, so don't make a habit of dawdling in there."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what I'm doing here."

"You supposition is correct. And before you proceed to bombard me with an endless array of questions, I must warn you that I have no desire whatsoever for an interrogation. Here you will have a place to sleep and food to eat, everything required for survival. You may have full access to the kitchen, bathroom, and your sleeping quarters. There is no need to ask permission to eat or move about in the permissible areas. However, you are not to set foot in my office any time, for any reason. If you find it absolutely necessary to disturb me, you will announce yourself by knocking and present your reason for doing so in a clear, concise manner. As long as you do not go near the door, we won't have a problem."

Kate nodded in compliance and continued down the hall to the room he had designated as hers, which had a much homier, feminine feel than the cold, impersonal room she had occupied at the compound. It was fully furnished with a double bed, a dresser, and two night stands, and a lamp. The only feature that was conspicuously absent was a window, and she figured her placement in the only room without a means of escape was intentional. She sat down on the bed and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She had no idea why she was there or what had prompted their spontaneous relocation, but she was relieved just to be stationary again, no longer cooped up inside moving vehicles that wreaked havoc on her sensitive stomach.

Once her nervousness started to subside, she remembered her intense thirst and made a beeline to the bathroom. She grabbed the plastic cup resting on the sink and filled it to the brim. She took several substantial gulps, all the while savoring the moisture that soothed her parched throat. As soon as she finished the first, she had another, and yet another after that. After her third serving, her thirst was sated, and she returned to her new bedroom.

While Kate was unpacking, she came upon the gown she had worn just two nights before. As a result, her thoughts turned to Barsad, and more specifically, her scathing choice of parting words to him. She had never before disparaged anyone so openly, and she never would have if she hadn't felt so betrayed. After she came through on the Reyes affair, he even seemed proud of her, and she couldn't help but derive a strange sense of pride from his approval. Just when she had started to attain some sense of belonging, he yanked the rug out from under her and willingly forsook her in deferment to his master's wishes. An even worse blow was the fact that she actually allowed herself to develop a sort of fondness for him. In retrospect, she felt like a complete fool for even entertaining the notion that the feeling could ever have been mutual.

Not long after settling in, Kate began to feel somewhat lethargic. The room did not contain a clock, but she knew it would probably be a while before daylight gave way to darkness. Seeing as there was no reason for her to stay up, she decided to turn in. She pulled the tucked sheet and blanket off of the perfectly made bed and wrapped them around her body like a cocoon.

Just as Kate was drifting off, Bane was busy getting his quarters in order. His luggage consisted of clothing, various high-tech gadgets, and of course, an ample supply of his anesthetic. Just as in the compound, there was an office which bordered his sleeping quarters. It was fully equipped with a government quality workstation which included a top-of-the line computer and extensive radio, satellite, and surveillance equipment, everything he would need to keep tabs on the outside world.

Bane's survival post-Gotham was never part of the plan that had been set into motion nearly ten years earlier. He, along with Talia and their compatriots, was supposed to perish in the glorious nuclear holocaust that would result in the fulfillment of Ra's al Ghul's destiny. Every day since was nothing more than a reminder of their failure, of his failure. He was haunted by deep-seated feelings of guilt over the passing of his muse. She was dead while he was still alive, and there was nothing at all right about that. Although he regretted that their plot, which by design mandated the deaths of every member of their organization, had not come to fruition, his regret did not extend to his own survival. On the contrary, he had been given a second chance that seemed to be ordained by fate itself, and he was not about to squander it. He was now free to regroup and develop new strategies that would culminate in the ultimate destruction of the much reviled Gotham City. He had let Talia down in her life, but he would use his second chance to honor her memory by not allowing her life's work go to waste.

As night fell, Bane finished organizing his office. Having not heard a peep out of her in several hours, he decided to check on his oblivious cohabitant. He cracked her bedroom door slightly to ensure she was where she was supposed to be. It was dark by then, but he could distinguish her sleeping form on the bed. She looked so peaceful, and he couldn't help but feel a sliver of envy as he gazed upon her, as he rarely experienced the pleasure of uninterrupted slumber. His periods of sleep were erratic and disjointed; he would wake at least once during the night, usually as the result of his traumatic past infringing upon his unconscious mind. Although it had been nearly 15 years since his deliverance, the unspeakable memories forged in the pit infinitely tortured his soul to such an extent that he was never out of their reach. The physical mutilations he bore on nearly every part of his body were matched by permanent mental scars inflicted during his years of brutal confinement.

Bane's first order of business after settling in was to make some modifications to their new abode, the first of which was installing a dead bolt on the cabin's only exit. Kate's fear was highly evident in the wake of the move, and he was not about to take any chances of his ingénue becoming flighty and attempting a daring escape in the middle of the night.

The next day, Kate was roused shortly after dawn by the pleasant sound of chirping birds. She couldn't remember ever experiencing such lovely melodies, for Gotham was not known for its diverse wildlife. She reveled in the avian harmonics as she lay in her new bed, which was far more comfortable than the one she had slept in back in the bunker.

After taking her time waking up, she went into the bathroom to shower and dress. She was overjoyed to discover that the bathroom contained a spacious tub. Just when she was about to fill it, she recalled Bane's warning about not occupying the bathroom for any extended period of time. With a heavy sigh, she relinquished her desire for a long, hot soak in favor of a quick shower.

With absolutely nothing to do in her room, Kate ventured into the living room. The sleek TV located in the center of the room directly in front of the couch beckoned to her. She had never been an enthusiast of the medium, but with nothing else to do, she happily turned it on in the hopes of picking up at least one channel. Those hopes were dashed when she realized there was no signal. _So much for that idea._

She then exited the living room and went to rummage in the kitchen for something to eat. She eagerly perused the contents of the cupboards, which were reminiscent of those back at the compound. The usual suspects were all present and accounted for: every variety of beans known to man, canned tuna and chicken, soups of every flavor, boxes of rice, canisters of oatmeal, and canned pasta for every taste. The refrigerator contained nothing save an adequate supply of bottled water and protein drinks, which just screamed Bane. After a fleeting daydream of a full course breakfast, she placated her appetite with a bowl of bland oats.  
_  
_After finishing breakfast, Kate quietly inspected the areas Bane had granted her access to. Overall, the place was pretty neat, but there was room for improvement, first and foremost being the significant layer of dust that blanketed practically every fixture. Since she had nothing else to do, she decided to make herself useful and tidy up the place. She felt as if she had won the lottery when she discovered some cleaning supplies in the cabinet below the kitchen sink. She could tell from the outdated labels that the solutions had a few years on them. It was obvious from the outdated cleaning products and copious amount of dust that the residence had been vacant for a few years.

Kate pulled her hair back with her only remaining hair tie, which she had managed to hold onto since her last day in Gotham, and went to work on refreshing their new refuge. As she fastidiously cleaned its interior, she found herself pondering the origins of the isolated bungalow. Bane was very familiar with its layout, so he must have been there at least once before. It was a small home, adequate for no more than two people. If the cottage was indeed his, he must have hosted a female houseguest at some point in time. The room which presently served as her bedroom definitely had a woman's touch with its distinctly feminine bedding and choice of furnishings. Kate deduced that the former leader of the League of Shadows, whoever she was, was the most logical suspect.

It took Kate just over two hours to eradicate all traces of dust from every crevice of the cabin. Her body temperature had risen due to the physical exertion of cleaning, but as she relaxed on the couch, her body heat dissipated, and she noticed just how chilly the cabin was. No sooner than the thought crossed her mind, Bane's door opened. Kate sprung from her reclined position and sat at attention. He surveyed the room and turned to her.

"It appears you've been busy."

"I figured I'd clean up a little."

"Are you cold?"

Kate hesitated as Bane waited for a response.

"It's not a trick question. Are you cold or not?"

"Yes."

"I'll gather some wood for the fire."

"Thank you."

Bane came into the cabin within several minutes with kindling in tow. Kate remained on the couch and watched as he shoveled the wood into the fireplace. After opening the damper, he lit the fire and stoked it with the poker to achieve its desired state.

"What's with the TV?" she asked.

He turned and looked at her.

"There's no signal. Kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?"

Bane turned from the fire and opened the doors at the bottom of the TV stand to reveal a DVD player along with a plentiful selection of DVDs.

"Apparently I've overestimated your inquisitiveness."

"Apparently."

"Surely you can find something in there to amuse yourself."

"Thank you."

"Do you know how to tend a fire?"

"No."

"Just be attentive. Let me know if it gets too hot or burns out, whichever comes first," he instructed as he locked the exit door with a key and retreated back into his office. She noticed that he left his door ajar, probably in order to warm his chambers.

Kate relocated from the couch to the floor near the TV in order to browse the movies. There was hardly a film made post-1980 to be found in the ample collection. As she sorted through the various titles, a recurring theme became evident; many of the films were either set in prison or associated with incarceration in one way or another. The library also contained a bountiful supply of silent films. All in all, there were 40 motion pictures to choose from, and Kate decided that The Godfather trilogy would serve as her entertainment for the remainder of the day. She had seen the first film years ago in her former life, but only the heavily edited, television-friendly version.

Just shy of three hours in length, the first of three films featuring the iconic mafia dynasty provided Kate with just the escape from reality she so desperately needed. Seeing as Bane's door was open, she was sure to keep the volume at a level that would not distract him from whatever he was doing.

While Kate indulged in cinematic pleasures as the day wore on, Bane's increasing discomfort indicated that he was in urgent need of a new dose of medication. He retrieved a new vial from his bedroom closet and sat down on his bed. With a firm grip on the clasp located at the back of his head, he unlatched it and removed the mask. He discarded the depleted vessel in a nearby waste basket and carefully inserted the fresh batch of anesthetic in its appropriate compartment. He then positioned the mask back onto his face and fastened the latch. He closed his eyes and took several deep inhalations of the wondrous mixture until his pain dulled to near extinction. Without the benefit of the pharmaceutical concoction that he had breathed continuously for the past decade and a half, the agony was beyond intolerable. Just the few minutes he had gone without it while he swapped out the canisters resulted in intense agony. After wiping away the perspiration that had formed on his brow, he grabbed a fresh set of clothing and went to take a much needed bath.

By late afternoon, Kate was approaching the end of the second film. She was so engrossed in her viewing that she barely flinched when Bane emerged from his enclave. Upon noticing his presence, she turned her attention away from the TV.

"Do you have an immediate need for the bathroom?"

"No, I'm good."

With that, Bane entered the bathroom and shut the door. His only option was a bath, as the mask and water were not a good combination. As soon as the tub was filled, he disrobed and immersed himself in the hot, soothing water. He thoroughly cleansed his imposing frame in a timely manner and dressed in a comfortable pair of black cotton pants.

As he gazed upon his likeness in the mirror, his eyes focused on his chest, which was covered in scar tissue thanks to a cannon blast at the hands of Bruce Wayne's knavish sidekick. The scars that sheathed his upper torso were more severe than those which marked the lower part of his face. He never had a proclivity for looking in the mirror, and his most recent injury gave him even more of a reason not to. While standing at the sink, he again removed the mask in order to perform necessary hygienic tasks. Without it, he had a 30-minute window before the pain would resurface. He had worn the mask for so long it almost seemed like a part of his face. For the past 15 years of his turbulent life, it was his constant companion that served two purposes. Its chief function was as a medical instrument, a one-of-a-kind device designed to relegate his constant pain to a bearable level by delivering a highly effective, gaseous anesthetic via a series of tubes held within its confines. It also served a second purpose; it shielded his permanently damaged face from view.

It took him less than 15 minutes to shave and brush his teeth. He then reattached the mask, put on a crisp, sleeveless cotton shirt, and gathered his clothing before exiting the bathroom. Kate was still lounging on the couch and absorbed in the movie when he addressed her.

"The kitchen is off limits until I have finished."

"Okay."

While Bane ate in the kitchen, the second film concluded, and Kate got up to change discs. She had always heard that the third and final installment of the trilogy fell far short of the glory of its critically-acclaimed predecessors, and she was eager to find out if she agreed with the general consensus.

It did not take Bane long to finish his meal, as he his time without the mask was drawing to a close. Immediately following the ingestion of his necessary daily nourishment, he retired to his quarters in silence.

Once in his office, Bane decided it was time to call the only person in the miserable world he could trust. His trusty second answered the phone mid-ring.

"You made it?"

"I have."

"And your travel companion?

"Yes, Miss Lowry is safe and sound as well."

"Glad to hear it."

"Have there been any inquiries regarding my abrupt departure?"

"No one's been foolish enough to ask. How are things there?"

"All is well."

"I really think I should know your location. If something were to happen…"

"My location is on a need-to-know basis. And at this time, no one, including you, needs to know. I am curious to know what you think may happen, and if this hypothetical event involves your former protégé."

"She could try to escape. She was pretty upset before she left."

"There is no cause for concern; our location is completely secure. She's not going anywhere."

"How is she?"

"A walking nerve, but she'll live."

"Will she?"

"You're concerned for her," Bane observed.

"I wouldn't want to see her hurt is all."

"Must I remind you that it was you who found it necessary to abduct her?"

"No."

"Therefore, whatever happens or doesn't happen to her will be a direct result of your decision. We have been over this ground before, have we not?"

"I know I'm responsible for her fate. I suppose that's the reason for my concern."

"Is that as far as it goes?"

"Yes."

"You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

"Of course not."

"As long as the world remains ignorant of my location and she doesn't attempt an escape, no harm shall befall her."

"How long do you plan on staying there?"

"Until I deem it wise to depart."

"What are your orders in the meantime?"

"As of now, all plans are on hold until further notice. We all need to lay low for a while. I will contact you regularly. Keep your phone on."

"Will do."

Soon after Bane ended the call, he heard a knock at the door.

"The fire's out," she said softly.

When he did not answer, she wondered if he heard her. Just as she was about to repeat her words, the door opened suddenly, and Kate let out a slight shriek as she jumped back.

"Are you always so easily unnerved?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to just barge out like that," replied Kate as she returned to the couch.

"The heat generated will be sufficient until tomorrow," Bane remarked as he closed the damper.

"So what is this place? Is it your home?"

"No."

"Well, it's obvious that someone lived here, once upon a time."

"Your thirst for knowledge has returned, has it?"

"Just making conversation. Is that such a crime?"

"In addition to the previously mentioned rules, I would prefer you keep your inquiries and observations to yourself. I have no desire to engage in frivolous chatter. Consider it an exercise in self-control."

"Fine," she muttered in resignation as he turned to leave.

_Go crawl back into your hole then._

Kate tried to lose herself in the final chapter of the Corleone family saga, but her former enthusiasm was ruined in one fell swoop by Bane's hostile decree. An inexorable combination of bitterness and resent tormented her throughout the rest of the movie, to the point that she lost track of the plot and thus completely stopped paying attention. She was tired of being told what to do. She was sick of being kept in the dark and not having any control over her life. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't; she had no more tears left. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't; she was at the mercy of a madman. She wanted to run, but she couldn't; she had nowhere left to go.


	16. Chapter 15

_As soon as the school bus doors swung open, the eight-year-old girl darted off the bus and began the dizzying trek to her home in the apartment complex at the end of Emerald Street. She wasn't always in such a particular rush to get home, but on that particular day, she had something to be proud of, news she could not wait to tell her mother, whose approval she so desperately sought._

_"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" the young girl called out as she dashed to her mother's bedroom door._

_"Christ Kate, settle down! You could wake the dead with that mouth!" the woman replied as she opened the door to see what her daughter was yelling about._

_"Guess what happened today?"_

_"I don't know, Kate. Just spit it out already, I'm busy."_

_"I won my tenth spelling be in a row! My teacher says I'm the best speller in the whole class!" the little girl exclaimed happily._

_"That's nice, honey," the woman replied unenthusiastically._

_"Look, Mrs. Heath even made me a banner!" she said as she proudly displayed her prize to her mother. "And since I won more spelling bees than anyone else in the whole school, I get to go to the city-wide finals in the summer!"_

_"Great. Now go play in your room."_

_"And you and Daddy can come see me out-spell all the other kids in Gotham!"_

_"Kate, do you see your father around here anywhere?"_

_"No," she answered softly._

_"That's right, you don't. He hasn't been home for over a month, and I doubt he's gonna rush right back for some silly little spelling bee."_

_"But..."_

_"Damn it Kate, I told you I'm busy. Now stop making a pest of yourself, and go to your room like I said!"_

_The woman slammed the door shut and returned to her surreptitious bedroom activities. Before going to her bedroom, the young girl stopped in the kitchen, discarded the hand-sewn blue and gold banner in the garbage receptacle, and closed the lid._

The disheartening dream unceremoniously stirred Kate out of her deep sleep and transported her back to reality in an instant. She sat up and turned on the small lamp next to her bed. She wondered why she had dreamed of her mother, of all people. Ever since being whisked away from Gotham, she had been far too concerned with her own survival to give much thought to either of her parents, the negligent caretakers who had surrendered her to the state without hesitation in what seemed like a lifetime ago. In her early teenage years, she clung to the hope that they would eventually have a change of heart and reform their lives in order to reclaim her, but that hope waned as a result of their non-appearance at countless custody hearings, and she became completely estranged from them as a result. During her early adulthood, she briefly entertained the idea of trying to locate them, but quickly came to her senses and shelved the idea; the last thing she needed was yet another disappointment.

Curious of the time, she slowly tiptoed through the hallway and living room and hoped her traipsing wouldn't alert Bane to her late evening or early morning wandering, whatever the case may be. Once in the kitchen, she closed the door very slowly and quietly before switching on the light conveniently located next to the door.

According to the clock on the microwave, it was 2:37. She didn't know how accurate it was, but she figured it probably wasn't too far off. She procured a bottle of water from the fridge, flipped the light switch off, and nimbly sprinted back to her room. After sating her thirst with about half of the bottle, she set the remaining beverage on her nightstand. Determined to resume her favorite pastime, she turned off the lamp and tried to clear her mind as she waited to drift off.

Bane began his workout at sunrise the next day after having breakfast. Since he no longer had access to exercise equipment, a strict regimen of simple calisthenics would have to suffice to keep his body at its zenith. His vigorous routine included push-ups, sit-ups, and every conceivable form of stretching. He yearned for a good run, but he reasoned it was too risky to leave Kate all alone for an extended period of time.

After having her shower, Kate realized she was running out of clean clothes. Deciding there was no time like the present, she rounded up her small wardrobe and headed for the laundry room. The residence was equipped with both a washer and a dryer and had indoor plumbing courtesy of a drilled well located on the property. Always grateful for the small things, Kate was glad she would not have to beat her clothes against a rock to get them clean. As she passed Bane's room on her way, she wondered if he had a lack of clean clothing also. _You can do your own laundry, asshole. _She couldn't help but give a slight smirk as she thought the words she would never dare speak to the man in the nearby room just a few paces away. She piled her garments into the washer, turned the dial to the desired setting, poured the detergent, and closed the lid. With that chore out of the way, she fixed a bowl of oatmeal and decided to partake in another movie.

As Kate again looked through the compendium of films, she wished it contained at least one comedic selection. A good laugh was just what she needed at the time, but much to her chagrin, the person to which the collection belonged apparently did not have an appetite for humor. Even with the absence of her desired genre, the films would serve as a good, albeit temporary, diversion. Because she wanted to enjoy the benefit of sound, she decided to save the silent films for last and popped in Cool Hand Luke, one of the many films that depicted prison life.

In his bedroom, Bane concluded his workout just as Kate was becoming acquainted with her chosen film's title character. He had barely worked up a sweat, as he was accustomed to a much more intense level of physical exertion which included beating lesser men into submission. While engaging in sparring sessions with other members of the League, he always had to hold back, else he would easily kill each and every opponent. Needless to say, his men never lined up to spar with their leader, whose physical and mental prowess were unmatched. Unsatisfied with his less than demanding routine, he went to explore the closet in the hopes that he had left at least some weights behind during his last stay.

Not having to stretch at all because of his towering height, he reached up to the top shelf of the closet and gripped a mid-sized wooden chest. He situated himself on the bed and began sorting through the box, the contents of which were powerful reminders of a different time, a different place, and a different life.

His artificial body had suffered more damage than even that of his owner. His right eye had long ago been severed, he was missing an ear, and his insides were all but gone due to the large hole his owner had made in order to sheath the crudely fashioned blade that served as his sole implement of protection in Peña Dura. Bane had kept the stuffed toy, a brown bear his mother had named Osito, since he was five years old. He was torn, tattered, and covered in dirt, but his imperfections in no way diminished his worth to his faithful human friend.

Bane was just ten years old when he and his mother were forced to suffer for his father's lifetime of lawlessness. Their first and only incident of good fortune came when they received an offer of friendship and protection from a man named Savio. At 60, Savio was older than most of the other inmates. Having served roughly 20 years of his life sentence by the time Bane and his mother arrived, the soft-spoken, diminutive Peruvian was well respected by the majority of the other inmates. He was an educated man whose vast knowledge of virtually every subject impressed his fellow internees. He was fluent in English, Spanish, French, and German, and that fluency afforded him a position of serving as the pit's official translator. His knowledge of various tongues allowed inmates of differing nationalities to communicate with one another, another quality which endeared him to the others.

The first two years were the easiest for Bane simply due to the fact that he had his mother by his side. Savio also took a liking to Elena's inquisitive young son and took the boy under his wing almost immediately. Under the tutelage of the uncommonly benevolent man, Bane learned the arts and humanities and science and math; the older, wise man's teachings were the closest thing to formal education that he'd ever experienced.

Bane's life took yet another turn for the worse shortly after his 12th birthday, when an outbreak of Typhus occurred in the pit. The strain of the bacterial disease was particularly virulent and reduced the population by nearly a fourth. Among the afflicted was his mother, for whom the malady was especially debilitating due to her already weakened condition due to malnutrition. Food was extremely scarce in the prison, and Bane's mother went hungry more often than not, sacrificing her paltry rations in order to make sure her growing son was adequately nourished. The once vibrant and carefree Elena fought the illness with all she had, for as long as she could, but by her second week of infection, her body had begun the long, arduous process of shutting down. The old man who had been a father figure to both her and her child since their very first day of their incarceration rarely left her side during her malaise. Knowing her death was imminent, the stricken mother asked one final request of their steadfast benefactor.

_"Por favor tenga a mi hijo seguro. Por favor, Savio."  
__**(Please keep my son safe. Please, Savio.)  
**__  
"Sí, Elena. Yo prometo."  
__**(Yes, Elena. I promise.)**_

_"Gracias, mi querido amigo."_

_Gracias por todo lo que has hecho. Un lugar en el cielo te espera."  
__**(Thank you, my dear friend. Thank you for all you have done. A place in heaven awaits you.)**_

_"Espero contar con tu presencia, mi ángel."_

_**(I hope to see you there, my angel.)  
**_**  
**During Elena's infirmity, her son never left her side. He slept on the bed beside hers and woke every day at dawn to assist Savio in tending to her needs. He stayed with his mother until the very end, which came late one Thursday night.  
_  
"My beautiful boy. Do you know how precious you are to me?" she asked as she stroked his face._

_"Yes, mother," he answered as he tried to hold back the tears for her sake._

_"You know I would do anything to stay with you. But our Father has decided to call me home now, so I must go."_

_"I hate God."_

_"Don't say such horrible things, my son."_

_"Why shouldn't I hate him? He let them put us here, he let you get sick, and now he's taking you away," the boy sobbed._

_"No, my precious child. God is not to blame; He blesses us every day. You must not punish Him for the misfortunes that have befallen us."_

_"Who then? My father. I hate him."_

_"You must not let hate pollute your heart. You must purge yourself of it, or it will destroy you in time. Promise me you won't let that happen. Promise me you will go on, that you will not lose your will to survive."_

_"I promise," the boy vowed as he gently held onto his mother's frail body._

_"It is in your heart, in your mind, that I will have eternal life. I will always be with you, I will always love you. Please don't ever forget that, my sweet boy."_

_"I will never forget you, mother. Never. I love you so much," he wailed._

_"Que el Señor te bendiga y te guarde siempre, mi hijo,"she whispered with her final breath._  
_**("May the Lord bless you and keep you safe always, my son.")  
**  
_The painful memory was too much. He rose from his seated position, placed his childhood toy back into the box, and tucked it away in the closet. After pacing for a few minutes, he returned to the closet and again pulled out the box.  
_  
_The photograph was old and worn. Its edges were frayed, and the once vivid hues had long faded. She was 12 when it was taken, just two years after she escaped. Her hair that was always closely-cropped hair had grown just a bit past her shoulders by that time. Her father had caught his daughter unaware when he snapped the photo, causing a slightly surprised look on her face, which by then had a healthy, youthful glow. She was so beautiful; she had been since the day she was born.  
_  
_Although he had sworn to his mother on her deathbed that he would not allow himself to succumb to the poison of hate, he failed to live up to his promise. But rather than allowing his ingrained hatred to consume him, he channeled it, harnessed it, and focused it. It got to the point that he started to believe that hate was the only thing keeping him alive. In his fourteenth year, he himself was struck with Typhus, the very disease that had claimed his mother. But unlike his mother, he did not die. He made a full recovery from the disease without the benefit of antibiotics. His return to complete health amazed everyone, most of all his staunch guardian Savio, who came to believe it a miraculous event. Bane, however, suffered from no such superstitious delusions.

Bane was 15 when Talia's mother was lowered into the pit; no longer a boy, but not yet a man. When he first laid eyes on the young woman, a beauty named Angeline, he could not help but be reminded of his dearly departed mother, who was around the same age when she gave birth to him. She was very pregnant at the time and had only a month left to go before she would deliver her baby. Many of the younger, virile inmates harbored lecherous intentions towards the slight, scared woman, but fortunately for her, there were some men who had maintained their humanity even under the most horrid conditions.

Just as he had done with Elena, the elder Savio offered his hand in friendship to the prison's new sole female occupant. When the time came, he helped deliver the baby, a beautiful girl she christened Talia. Savio formed a deep attachment to the infant. As Savio's student, Bane also formed a close bond with Angeline and her baby daughter. Together, they guarded the angelic bundle of joy with their very lives.

Determined to keep the child safe, Savio decided that her true gender must be kept secret from the others for as long as possible. To ensure that end, he declared that baby Talia would be known as "Tomás" to everyone except the three of them. As she grew from infancy, into toddlerhood, and eventually pre-pubescence, little Talia's hair and clothing always resembled that of a boy's, and she spoke only to her mother and her two friends.

At the time he met Talia's mother, Bane was still grieving the death of his own mother three years prior. He felt the immensity of her loss every day, every hour, every minute. She had been his only light in the deep, dark place the most vile specimens of humanity called home. If it had not been for the promise he made to his mother, along with his mentor's goodwill and the arrival of Angeline, Bane would have become forever lost in the recesses of despair.

It was during his first year of adulthood that Bane first experienced what it was like to kill a man. Among the many things that Savio had schooled him in was card playing; not exactly the most refined activity, but the skill had its uses in the pit. Thanks to a very lucky hand during a game of poker one night in the commons area, he won the next three bread rations of a hot-headed Chilean prisoner named Hector. Humiliated by his loss at the hands of the young upstart, Hector flew into a blind rage and attacked the 18-year-old. By that time, Bane's body was strong, and he easily gained the upper hand on his adversary. Once the fight was over and the dust had settled, Bane emerged as the victor. That would have been all there was to the story had Hector not uttered the words that sealed his fate.

_"Que está a salvo ahora, chico. Un día, que no será. Y cuando llegue ese día, mis amigos pagará a sus amigos una visita."  
__**("You are safe now, boy. One day, you will not be. And when that day comes, my friends will pay your friends a visit.")**_

As soon as the words escaped his lips, Bane lunged at Hector and pummeled his face until it was reduced to a bloody pulp. The scuffle that had ensued between the two men had drawn a sizeable audience; by the time Hector's face was nothing more than a memory, the entire prison population, save the extremely old and infirm, witnessed Bane's coming of age, his evolution from boyhood to manhood. Alarmed by the deafening cheers and chants of the prisoners, Savio remained in his cell to protect Angeline and her three-year-old daughter. When his pupil returned covered in the dead man's blood, Savio was relieved.

_"What happened?"_

_"I bested him in poker, won his bread for a day. He didn't like it," said Bane as he wiped the blood from his hands with a crude swath of rough fabric._

_"I saw you fighting him. After you overcame him, you backed off. But then you went back to finish him. Why?"_

_"He threatened me."_

_"You did the right thing. Did any of the others hear his words?"_

_"I'm sure they did."_

_"Good. Now they know you are no longer a boy, but a man; a man willing and able to kill."_

_As Bane continued to try to remove the dead man's blood from his hands, Angeline knelt before him and offered him some water to aid in the process._

_"The water is for you and the child to drink."_

_"Only a little. We have plenty saved," she insisted as she sprinkled a bit of water onto his hands._

_"Thank you."_

_After he rid himself of the blood, little Talia wandered over to them and looked up at Bane, who picked her up and bounced her on his knee while she cooed happily, completely oblivious to their atrocious environment._

_"She likes you," said Angeline._

_"She's three; she'd like anyone who bounced her on their knee."_

_"Not anyone. Children can tell good from bad. She can tell you are a good man. You are not like these other men. There is darkness in you, but there is also light."_

_"If there is, it's not much, I'm afraid."_

_"That man…he did not threaten you."_

_"Sure he did."_

_"He threatened us, didn't he?"_

_"What makes you think that?"_

_"If he had threatened you, you would have waited for him to come. You killed him because he said he would hurt us. You and Savio, you protect us because you are good men. You have done so much for us; I will never be able to repay your kindness."_

_"Angeline, you needn't worry about that."_

_"I don't care what happens to me. I made my own choices. But Talia does not have a choice. Promise me that if anything should happen, that you will look after my daughter. I know it is much to ask, but…"_

_"I will always look after her. You have my word."_

_"Thank you, my friend."_

Unfortunately, Bane had to make good on Angeline's request just five years later. Savio was gone by then, having died at the age of 70 three years prior. After the fatal mistake of leaving her cell unlocked one day, Angeline was overwhelmed by several of the prisoners. Bane arrived just in time, but could not save her. He wanted to, but he couldn't; there were just too many of them. He knew if he tried to fight them off, they would have easily subdued him and then killed Talia. He had to sacrifice Angeline's life to save her daughter's, just as she had asked him to years earlier. Determined to keep his promise, he scooped eight-year-old Talia in his arms and whisked her out of harm's way as the depraved inmates snuffed out her mother's life.

In an attempt to banish the torturous recollections from his mind, Bane went into the living room. Since he made it clear he didn't want to hear her voice, Kate ignored his presence and continued to enjoy the movie, which he recognized immediately. The last thing he needed right then was a reminder of prison. He marched to the TV and shut it off. Kate was flabbergasted.

"What the hell?!" she exclaimed.

"Movie time is over. Go back to your room," he commanded.

"Why?"

"Don't question me, just go!" he bellowed.

Kate jumped up from the couch and fled to her room. Her anger reached its boiling point, but she was fearful to an even greater degree. She had no idea what had set him off, and she could only hope that he wouldn't invade her sanctuary anytime soon. Things had gone from bad to worse in an instant, and she had no idea why. His fury was unwarranted and arose without warning. Perhaps he had received troubling news of some sort, and reacted by taking his anger out on her. She wondered if the volume level was too high and had disturbed him. Or maybe his outburst was simply due to the fact that he was a volatile brute who derived some sort of sadistic satisfaction from petrifying her. Whatever the reason, Kate decided that enough was enough.

Her bedroom offered no escape route, but the living room did, in the form of a window next to the door. There was also a window in the kitchen above the sink, but the former was both larger and more accessible. She had to take a chance, the sooner the better. If Bane was that unstable without any provocation, she could only imagine the wrath he would assuredly inflict upon her in response to a genuine infraction. She knew that an escape attempt would mean risking her life as well, but she figured any chance was better than none at all.

**Author's Note****: Greetings, readers! So you've probably noticed I'm making up a few things as I go. I'm doing that because I needed a bit more material for the back story in order to make the story cohesive, so I hope you all are okay with that. I am not fluent in Spanish, so I had to use an online translator. Spanish speakers, please feel free to correct my translations if they are inaccurate. Thanks so much for reading, and an extra-special thanks with cherries on top to those who follow, favorite and/or review :)  
**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: This chapter is all over the place, so I wanted to make a few things clear in order to avoid any confusion that may arise. Regular text (sans bold and italics) indicates present day (i.e., the events and thoughts of the two main characters at the cabin). _Italics_ denote the past (Bane's and Talia's history), and _**bold italics**_ are used for Kate's inner monologue (stream of consciousness thinking). I realize I'm mixing things up a bit in this one, but after reviewing, I feel it has a natural flow and exhibits a sufficient level of congruence. I did change the point of view in regard to Kate's inner monologue, but only because I wanted her fears and doubts to be almost palpable to the reader. If some of you aren't pleased with this, don't worry, as this is the only installment in which I'm straying from my preferred format, specifically the third-person omniscient point of view. I was in a rush to get this posted, so please excuse any errors or inconsistencies. I don't take offense to anyone pointing those out, by the way. I'm up way past my bedtime; I'm so going to pay for this in the morning. Thank you all so much for reading, especially those who take the time to favorite, follow, and review. Without further ado, I give you the sixteenth chapter :)

Bane had only been at the cabin a few days, and he already wanted to move on.

For him, there was no escape from the past. It was always there gnawing at him. The relocation had made it even worse; nothing to do, plans indefinitely postponed. He hated being so inactive; he should be back in North Africa leading his men, laying the groundwork for the future. Instead he was hiding out in the woods like a common criminal. That type of existence was beneath him. A respite from his work was not what he had envisioned after evading death, but he needed to keep a low profile until some of the dust had settled. As undignified as it was, he had to lay in wait until the rumors of his survival faded.

The unassuming cottage in the middle of the Romanian forest was built many years ago for Talia's father, Ra's al Ghul. After Ra's liberated Bane from the pit, he took a hiatus from the League in order to become acquainted with his long lost daughter, whom he did not even knew existed until she escaped and tracked him down. She was so young then, so innocent; far from the vengeful woman who drew her last breath in the wasteland of Gotham. As he once again gazed at the worn snapshot of his late muse, he was sucked right back into his painful past.

_After Angeline was murdered, Bane was the only person who stood between Talia and the other inmates. He had grown to an impressive height of 6'5" by the time he had reached adulthood, and he worked out incessantly in order to mold his body into a force to be reckoned with. He had also killed a handful of men by that time, men who had threatened him, Talia, or both of them. Despite his best efforts and good intentions, he knew that one day, he would be slain and that Talia's death would follow his own. It was a certainty; it was only a matter of time._

_Deshi basara! Deshi basara!_

_The familiar, age-old hymn of the condemned approached its crescendo. The thunderous recitation meant one thing and one thing only._

"_Someone's trying for it again. Don't you want to see?" asked Talia._

_"Not especially," replied Bane as he twiddled with a piece of string._

_"But he could make it, and you'd miss it."_

_"Not likely."_

_"Do you think anyone could do it?"_

_"Not anyone."_

_With that, the doomed masses ended their hallmark chant as the rope descended back down into the abyss. The man climbing for freedom may have always been different, but the end result was always the same._

_"Why do they keep trying if it can't be done?" inquired Talia._

_"They still hold onto the hope that it can be, I suppose."_

_"Has anyone ever done it before?"_

_"Not that I know of."_

_"You're strong; you could do it."_

_"Much stronger men have tried and failed."_

_"Don't you at least want to try?"_

_"This is foolish talk. Eat your bread before it goes stale."_

_Talia did as she was told and ate her bread. He always got upset when she didn't eat. She didn't know why he protected her, but she loved him for it. After she finished eating, she resumed her interrogation._

_"Why are you here?"_

_"What?"_

_"You never told me why you're here. Did you do something bad?"_

_"I'm here because of my father."_

_"He did something bad?"_

_"Everything he did was bad."_

_"What about your mom?"_

_"She's gone."_

_"Gone like my mom?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Do you think they're in heaven?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"I think they are."_

_Just like that it hit him, an epiphany of sorts. Grown men couldn't make the jump because they were too bulky; they didn't possess the lightness and grace of a child._

_"You can do it," he declared as Talia lay on the bed next to his._

_"Do what?"_

_"You can make the climb."_

_"No, I can't. I'm too small," she fretted._

_"Precisely. You weigh next to nothing. The men who've tried are twice your weight or more; they're too heavy. You just need to be able to jump far enough."_

_"How can I do that?"_

_"Practice makes perfect. You're going to practice, so much so that you'd be able to do it in your sleep."_

_"How?"_

_"We'll have to improvise."_

_"Improvise?"_

_"We'll have to make do with what is available to us."_

_"You really think I could do it?"_

_"I do."_

_"What if I can't?"_

_"You have to."_

_From then on, Talia practiced jumping at her protector's insistence. Each day, he set her target distance farther and farther. Sometimes she reached her goal, sometimes she didn't. When she became discouraged, he was there to renew her confidence. She leapt longer and longer, and higher and higher as the days slowly turned into weeks and the weeks into months. After nearly a year, he knew she was ready. She was ten by then, and it was only a matter of time before her true gender would be revealed. When the day arrived, her fear had reached its apex._

_"I'm afraid," she confessed to her devoted protector._

_"Good. Your fear is what will ensure your success," he reassured her._

_"You're my only friend. I don't want to leave you," she sobbed._

_"Listen to me, Talia. I cannot protect you from these men forever. One day, they will destroy me, and then they will destroy you. But your suffering will be far greater than mine could ever be. I cannot let that happen, you cannot let that happen! You're going to climb out of this place today. Do you understand?"_

_She nodded with tears in her eyes._

_You're my only friend. I love you."_

_"Prove it."_

_"What?" she asked confusedly._

_"If you love me, prove it. Climb out of this hell, and don't ever look back."_

_His words filled her with resolve. She had to do it for the both of them. With her protector by her side, Talia left her cell for the stairs. Once they got there, he hoisted the girl up onto the nearest ledge._

_"I love you, too," he said as he kissed her hand. "Now go!"_

_She looked down one last time as the maniacal inmates swarmed him. She couldn't hear his words, but she could read his lips; he said, "Goodbye." Her heart ached. She wanted to jump back down, but she had gone too far. She had to make it; she had to live for the both of them._

_To say that Ra's al Ghul was shocked by Talia's arrival was an understatement. At first, he thought the child may have been a con artist, perhaps a shill acting on the behalf of someone with an axe to grind, but his doubts were vanquished the moment he laid eyes on the girl. She was the spitting image of his dear Angeline; same eyes, same face, same voice. She also had in her possession a letter written by her late mother that explained everything that had happened after Ra's was exiled by Angeline's callous father._

_By the time he met his daughter, his very name was steeped in legend; he was the mastermind of the League of Shadows, the world's deadliest army of the most highly-skilled and successful assassins. Ra's wasted no time in bringing Angeline's father to judgment. It was rumored that Ra's cut out the old man's tongue and convinced him to chew the organ with the promise that if he did so, Ra's would bestow mercy upon him. After the warlord did as he was bid, Ra's gouged out his eyes and left him to bleed to death in the scalding desert, or so it was told._

_Talia told her father of the courageous man who had protected her in the pit, the man the others knew as Bane. She told Ra's that the idea for her to climb out had been Bane's. She told him of how the others mauled him after her ascent and had probably killed him. Enraged by Angeline's death at the hands of the debauched prisoners, Ra's and his squad of assassins stormed the pit and slaughtered nearly every man who dwelt in its bowels._

_The prisoners did not kill Bane; they kept him alive and tortured him for weeks for their own sadistic pleasure. They mutilated his face, broke his back, beat him until his insides were barely functional. They hated him for helping the child escape, they hated the child for doing what they could not. And since they could not punish the child, they punished her guardian in her stead._

_By the time Ra's and his men arrived in the pit, Bane was barely clinging to life. Ra's thought the only kind thing he could do was put the broken man out of his misery, but his young daughter vehemently objected and pleaded with him until he agreed to help her friend, her savior. Not wanting to subject his child to any further sorrow, Ra's agreed and assembled a medical team to treat his daughter's champion._

_The damage inflicted upon Bane was irreparable; the team's only recourse was to attempt to reduce his chronic agony. They worked together tirelessly until they came up with a possible solution, a one-of-a-kind, never-before seen innovation: a custom-made mask built exclusively for the purpose of pain minimization. A masterful chemist formulated a very specific blend of the most potent painkillers available. Once the mixture was perfected, the team put the finishing touches on the mask and engineered a revolutionary medicinal delivery system that would transform the liquid concoction into a vapor that would be inhaled by their patient on a constant basis._

_Once his battered body healed sufficiently, Bane began his training with the League of Shadows. He showed immense promise from the very beginning and became the organization's star initiate. Though Ra's was greatly impressed with his newest student's mental and physical proficiency, he could barely stand the sight of him. Each and every time he looked at Bane, he was reminded of Angeline's horrible fate. Bane was the living, breathing embodiment of his teacher's greatest failure. Soon after his training concluded, Bane was excommunicated by Ra's al Ghul. Out of gratitude for what Bane had done for Talia, Ra's provided his former student with a generous stipend before severing all ties with him._

_After being cast aside by his former teacher, Bane worked as a mercenary for hire throughout the world. He followed in his father's footsteps in that regard, but unlike his amoral father, he operated under a certain set of principles, a code of ethics of sorts. He never hurt women or children; only guilty men perished at his hand._

_The next time Bane met Talia, she was an adult. Her sweetness, her light, her innocence had been snuffed out in his absence, replaced with bitterness, darkness, and bloodlust. She was a woman consumed with vengeance; her father had been killed by his most promising former student, a wealthy heir from Gotham named Bruce Wayne, Bane's would-be replacement. A billionaire playboy by day, Wayne moonlighted as a vigilante called Batman in his home city in a quest to rid the streets of crime and injustice._

_After the death of Ra's, 18-year-old Talia assumed leadership of his legacy. Her first order of business was to track down Bane and welcome him back into the League as her second-in-command. Under Talia's leadership, the death of Wayne and destruction of his cherished city became the League's sole purpose; she would not rest until Wayne was no more and his city was dust._

_Seven years after their bittersweet reunion, Talia's and Bane's elaborate plan to rid the world of both Batman and Gotham was on the verge of execution. A massive undertaking from the outset, every move was calculated down to the last minute detail. Under the guise of a wealthy philanthropist named Miranda Tate, Talia secured a highly-coveted position as a board member of Wayne Enterprises. She used her influence and irresistible feminine charm to endear herself to her unsuspecting nemesis, who by that time had lost his position as CEO of the company built by his late father due to his reclusiveness and a failed clean energy project that had left the once profitable conglomerate teetering on the brink of collapse._

_After Wayne's ousting, the unscrupulous John Daggett was poised to assume control of his arch rival's floundering corporation. Just when he was about to seize the reins, Miranda Tate used her harmonious relationship with Wayne to undermine Daggett and took command with the unanimous support of the board. Collaborating in secret with Talia, Bane acquired Wayne's fingerprints and used them to choreograph a catastrophic business transaction which left Wayne bankrupt._

_Incognito as Tate, Talia feigned a romantic interest in her formerly prosperous associate. Moved by her devotion, Wayne became smitten with Tate, and the two engaged in a tryst. The ruse had been an integral part of Talia's plan; to gain Wayne's unwavering trust and then use his fatal blunder to bring about his undoing._

Bane was suddenly stirred from his reverie by a noticeable chill. It was time to reignite the fire, which would serve as a welcome distraction. Determined to rid himself of past reflections, he made his way to the fireplace. Back in her room, an internal war raged within Kate. To try to escape or not to try, that was the question.  
_**  
What if he's still awake? What if I trip over something? What if I can't get the fucking window open in time?**_

_**If he discovers me inside, he won't waste a bullet; he'll do it with his bare hands out of pure anger.**_

_**What if I make it out, but I make too much noise, and he hears me? He'll shoot me without thinking twice.**_

_**Fuck! Calm down Kate, you're driving yourself crazy. Breathe. Count to ten. Deep breaths. 1, 2, 3, 4 . . . who am I kidding? I can't do this; it's way too dangerous.**_

_**I have to do it. It's a chance.**_

_**Maybe I'm making too much out of what happened. Maybe his outburst wasn't so bad; maybe I'm just making it out to be worse than it was. All he did was yell and send me to my room; he didn't beat me or anything.**_

_**Yeah, he sent me to my room as if I were a child. Just like my mother. Well, I'm not a child, not anymore. I will not be dictated to for the rest of my life. No. Hell no. I have to do this.**_

_**It's sure death. I can't outsmart him. He brought an entire city to its knees, almost destroyed it completely. A man like that isn't going to be outwitted by some little nothing. He probably knows what I'm planning right now as I'm sitting here. He will be ready.**_

_**No, he thinks I'm too scared to try anything. He's feeding off my fear, it's causing him to be overconfident. He won't see this coming; he's too egotistical. Any chance is better than none at all.**_

_**He's a monster. I've seen firsthand what he's capable of. I've seen him kill.**_

_**Yeah, the piece of shit who was about to rape me. He saved my life. He didn't have to, but he did.**_

_**And I saved his. We're even. I don't owe him a God damn thing.**_

_**That proves that he isn't evil through and through, that there must be some good left in him deep down. He only yelled at me. He didn't hit me or fly into a rage. After I did as he asked, he didn't bother me anymore. He could have.**_

_**He doesn't view me as a human being. He thinks I'm inferior to him on every level. He didn't bring me here so we could play house together. He is using me somehow, I know it.**_

_**All I have to do is be quiet and quick.**_

_**What if he's waiting for me?**_

_**All I have to do is run to the road and flag someone down.**_

_**What if the person who stops doesn't understand English?**_

_**I only need one word. Policía. Polizia. Polizei. The same in French as it is in English. We're in Europe, we must be. Spanish, Italian, German, French. Almost all bases covered. I will convince whoever stops will take me to the authorities. I'll tell them what happened, that Bane is alive and that his lackeys kidnapped me. They'll go to the cabin, take him into custody, and put me on a plane home. End of story.**_

_**I don't have a home anymore.**_

_**Wait a minute. Maybe they'll call in the CIA or the FBI. After all, Bane is a terrorist. Maybe the American authorities will even give me some kind of reward for leading them to him.**_

_**He probably won't be taken alive. On the other hand, I can't see him killing himself. He'd think that cowardly. Maybe he'll face the music, have an enthralling TV trial, the whole nine yards. Every smooth-talking, high-profile attorney in Gotham would line up to take the case for the publicity. They'll probably send him to Guantanamo or somewhere similar.**_

_**Who cares? As long as I get out of here, I couldn't care less about what happens to him. I'm sure he's not losing any sleep over me. He should pay for what he's done.**_

_**What if he catches me?**_

_**He won't give me the luxury of begging; he'll kill me quickly…effortlessly...remorselessly. He'll deem me worthy of it for trying to escape.**_

_**It's a chance.**_

_**It's now or never.**_

After obsessing over it all day and well into the night, Kate was ready to make her move. She contemplated packing her bag, but decided against it. She didn't need anything weighing her down; she needed to be as mobile as possible. Besides, the clothing would only serve as an unwanted reminder of her captivity. She secured her hair in a tight ponytail and laced up the shoes she had been given when she first arrived at the compound. Just as she entered the living room, she detected noise and turned back immediately. It was too late; he was aware of her intrusion.

"Wait," he commanded.

"I'm sorry," she said as she turned to get the hell out of Dodge.

"I take it there is a reason for your nocturnal excursion."

"I…I was just going to get something to drink."

"Proceed."

She went quickly to the kitchen under the ruse of acquiring a drink. Just as she was about to leave, he entered the kitchen.

"Sit down," he ordered.

Kate did as she was told and sat down at the table. He took the chair across from her and rested his elbows on his knees facing away from the table. He was wearing the familiar black, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of brown cargo pants. After looking her over, he posed his first question.

"You and I are going to have a conversation now. During this conversation, I will ask the questions, and you will answer me truthfully. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

"Why do you have your shoes on? Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"I told you, I was going to get something to drink."

"Do you take me for a complete fool, Miss Lowry?"

"No."

"You haven't worn shoes since we've been here. And now here you are with shoes on."

"My feet were cold."

"It would greatly behoove you to end this transparent charade of yours."

"I'm not lying."

"That is exactly what you are doing. I will give you one more opportunity to speak the truth, but the offer will be the last."

She should have known she wouldn't be able to outsmart him. The plan was a terrible idea from the start, and it had failed before it had even begun. Her only option was to come clean before she really set him off. She submitted to heartrending defeat and spoke the words she hoped would not be her last.

"I was going to try to go out the window," she tearfully confessed, hoping against hope that he would spare her.

"Why would you entertain such an absurdly foolish notion? Did I not accurately relay to you the consequences of an escape attempt?"

"Yes, but…" she became too choked up to continue.

"You were scared; that's why you were going to run. I frightened you."

"Of course you frightened me. Do you forget who you are?"

"You were in fear for your life."

"I've feared for my life ever since your devoted sidekick abducted me," she tearfully confessed.

"Has anyone harmed you during your tenure?"

"Not physically, but I've been psychologically tortured in every conceivable way since the very beginning. I don't know what's going on, what I'm doing here, what's going to happen to me. I'm living, if you could even call it that, by your whims, which don't seem very predictable, by the way. I have no control whatsoever over my life. I'm a prisoner of the most dangerous man in the world. I'm scared to death! I don't know what to do, what to think, what to say," she rambled on almost incoherently.

"You are becoming unhinged."

"Of course I am! I'm losing my fucking mind! Can you honestly blame me?" she asked while she continued to weep.

Bane noticed that she was starting to hyperventilate.

"I'm going to be sick," she announced and ran to the bathroom at warp speed.

After slamming the bathroom door shut, Kate lifted the toilet seat and expelled the contents of her queasy stomach in a series of aching retches. She flushed the commode and scrubbed her teeth and tongue vigorously in an attempt to remove the foul taste. She withdrew from the bathroom and went back to her bedroom in the hopes that Bane would not pursue her. No sooner than the thought crossed her mind, he was at her door. He entered without knocking and sat at the end of her bed. Chilled to the bone, she wrapped herself in her bedding.

"Would you say that my behavior towards you was uncalled for? Don't tell me what you think I want to hear; speak nothing but the absolute truth."

"Yes, I do."

"Did you think that I would physically hurt you?"

"The thought crossed my mind, yeah."

"And that unyielding fear served as the catalyst for your escape plan?"

She nodded.

"I have never physically harmed you, ever. Why then would you come to such a conclusion?"

"I've seen you kill people with your bare hands," she reminded him.

"And among my murderous repertoire is the man who tried to violate you in the worst possible way," he reminded her. "I saved your life, which is not a service I perform very often."

"And I saved yours. Maybe not in the same dramatic fashion, but if I hadn't told Barsad where you were, you would have died. You saved my life, so I saved yours. That makes us even in my book."

"I never claimed otherwise."

"Why did you?"

"Again, this time with clarity."

"Why did you save me?"

"As horrible as I may be, Miss Lowry, I am repulsed by rape. It is the most reprehensible act committable; a crime that, in my estimation, warrants a death sentence."

"Barsad said that everyone in Gotham was guilty to one degree or another, that the guilty far outnumbered the innocent. If you believe that too, then it would have made sense for you to just leave me there and let the bastard finish me off; one less guilty person running around."

"Have you ever raped anyone?"

"What?"

"Have you ever raped anyone?"

"Of course not."

"Then you do not deserve such savagery. Why didn't you shoot that man?"

"I…I don't know. I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?"

"All right, cards on the table. Before you took over Gotham, I worked at a catering company as a server. The company I worked for catered to the abundantly rich, I'm talking 'Bruce Wayne' rich. After you locked down the city and displaced the elite, I found myself out of a job. I only had a little over a hundred bucks in the bank, and my landlord threatened me with eviction if I didn't come up with the rent by the end of the week. The last thing I wanted was to end up on the streets, which were crawling with criminals thanks to your so-called 'liberation' of Blackgate. I did what I had to do; I swallowed what little pride I had left and became a stripper. The man who tried to rape me was a patron I danced for earlier that night. He waited for me, followed me, and put a knife to my throat," Kate tried to continue, but her voice faded, and she was overwhelmed by a deluge of irrepressible tears. The translucent droplets cascaded down her face as she shielded herself from view. Her hand trembled as she tried in vain to muffle her humiliating whimpers.

Men were simple creatures, easy to manage and understand; women, on the other hand, were a different story. His personal experiences with them, save the treacherous Selina Kyle, had been predominantly pleasant. The only two people in the world he ever loved had been women, and as a result, he was slightly more tolerant of members of the fairer sex. He momentarily contemplated trying to comfort her, but he was no expert in that department and reckoned any movement on his part would only exacerbate her distress.

Determined to regain her composure, Kate frantically wiped the salty tears from her eyes.

"So now you know the whole story," she sniffled.

She looked up and noticed his eyes were fixed on the table rather than her.

"You blame yourself for the attack?"

"If I hadn't been taking my clothes off in front of perverts for quick cash, it wouldn't have happened. So yeah, I guess I do."

"I believe you have misplaced the blame. The person who is responsible, first and foremost, is that degenerate whose journey to the afterlife I gladly hastened. I also share in some of the culpability. If I had not taken the city, you would not have lost your job, and thus, would never have encountered that depraved waste of a life."

"You saved my life. If you hadn't been there that night, I'd probably be dead right now. But you're also the man who was ready to blow up an entire city."

"What happened, or almost happened, is not your fault. You should not blame yourself."

"Easier said than done."

"Look at me," he said in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

Kate never felt more embarrassed than she did at that moment. She didn't want to look at him, but she did anyway.

"It didn't happen. That miscreant did not succeed. You're alive, he's dead. Do not let him destroy you from beyond the grave."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Talking nicely to me, telling me not to beat myself up over what happened."

"I know what regret tastes like. In your case, there is no reason for it."

"My life is full of regret...for what I didn't do, for what I did. I can't just erase all of that just because you tell me I should."

He saw the pain in her eyes, heard it in her words. It may not have been as profound as his own, but it was still there; it defined who she was.

"I have a proposition for you," he said as he rubbed his hands together. "I propose that from this moment forward, we shall both adhere to a civil code of conduct."

"Forgive my boldness, but I don't recall engaging in incivility. I may have been a bit of a smart ass with the term paper remark, but other than that…"

"My bellicosity had nothing to do with you. Thus, I should not have rebuked you as I did. I do not pride myself on boorish behavior; therefore, I wish to rectify my former impertinence."

"Really?" she asked.

"However, I cannot simply disregard the fact that you planned to abscond, which is in direct defiance of my will."

"I'm sorry. Please don't kill me," she pleaded.

"I have no inherent desire to end your life, Miss Lowry. So once again, I will extend to you a rare courtesy. I will take into consideration the fact that your rebelliousness was a direct result of my inhospitable actions. But let me make it abundantly clear: If you ever try to escape again, you will leave me with no alternative but to punish your transgression in the harshest possible way. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You can consider this your final warning."

As he turned to leave, she thanked him. He acknowledged her with a slight nod.

Bane retreated to his quarters, and Kate remained in her bed as she seriously considered their first real conversation. He could have killed her right then and there, but he didn't. He could have beaten her and locked her in her room, but he didn't. Not only did he spare her, he went one further by offering what she assumed was as close to an actual apology as he could possibly muster. Just when she had given up any hope of a peaceful coexistence with him, her optimism was restored, if ever so slightly. After all, he had shown her kindness; not just once, but twice. Maybe he was human after all.


	18. Chapter 17

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 22, nine days after liberation (approximately two months prior to Chapter 16)**

Will Garris was a 12-year veteran of the Gotham Police Department. After paying his dues as a beat cop, he found his niche and made his name in the Narcotics Division of the Gotham Police Department. It was in that division that he found his second home, his true calling. In the aftermath of Bane's coup, drug enforcement took a back seat to rounding up the unlawfully released Blackgate inmates. The entire department underwent a comprehensive restructuring by order of the newly-installed police commissioner, and as a result, Garris was transferred to the Missing Persons Department. He was just one of many officers who were reassigned to the understaffed unit.

Rather than hunting down those he viewed as drug-peddling scum in the city's underbelly, Garris found himself spending his days and even some nights attempting to relocate the missing citizens of Gotham. His reassignment in particular had been the brain child of his superior, Lieutenant Tom Elliott, a no-nonsense straight shooter, a hardboiled cop caricature plucked straight from film noir. The men had always enjoyed a cordial working relationship, but they were cut from completely different cloths.

As Garris spent a typical Wednesday morning catching up on his workload, his office phone rang.

"Garris," he answered.

"I need to see you in my office," said Lieutenant Elliott.

"On my way, Lieutenant."

Garris left his desk and took the stairway up to the lieutenant's office on the fourth floor. He knocked on the door before entering.

"Will! How the hell are ya?"

"Fine, Lieutenant. And yourself?"

"Overworked and underpaid, but that describes 99 percent of the population, now doesn't it?"

"I suppose so, sir."

"Hell of a mess we've got on our hands, eh?"

"No argument there, sir."

"You were one lucky prick, being gone when the shit hit the fan. How'd that whole thing go, by the way?"

"I thought I had a pretty good chance of things going my way. My attorney was confident, the judge seemed sympathetic. But then, the shit hit the fan, as you put it, and he decided the kids should remain in Pittsburgh indefinitely, in order to ensure their safety. By then, I didn't have a leg to stand on. I couldn't exactly disagree with him; the last thing I'd want to do is to put my kids in jeopardy. I get visitation the first weekend of every month. On the upside, I got to spend a few months with them."

"Ever thought about putting in for a transfer?"

"The stepfather's in the military; he's not permanently stationed there. I can't follow them around the world indefinitely. The next hearing's in six months. I'm hoping by that time, things will be back to normal and the judge will reconsider."

"You've been in Missing Persons about a week now. How's that going?"

"I won't lie; I'm a bit out of my element, but I'm up for the task."

"What's your caseload over there, your personal caseload?"

"Right now, I've got eight."

"Leads?"

"Minimal. Every time I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere, I hit a brick wall."

"It's to be expected. I certainly don't consider it a reflection of your capability."

"I appreciate your confidence, sir. Have you met with Commissioner Ross yet?"

"Ha! Are you kidding? He's too busy rubbing elbows with members of the upper echelon to make the rounds down here."

"The interim mayor?"

"Hell no, that idiot's just a figurehead. I'm talking about **the** bigwigs, Garris…FBI, CIA, DHS."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Rumor has it that the Feds are ready to claim jurisdiction over this mess."

"Gotham is our city. It's our mess, our jurisdiction."

"Not for long. It's going federal. That masked lunatic is being touted as a bona fide domestic terrorist, and you know what a hard-on the Feds have for terrorists."

"Do you think he's actually alive?"

"Stranger things have happened in Gotham. We know that all too well. We also know that without a body, the case can't be closed."

"So after we do all the dirty work, the Feds are gonna swoop in and take all the credit?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. Department resources are stretched thin as it is. We'll all have enough on our plates with rounding up the thugs from Blackgate and doing damage control on Gordon's long list of fuck-ups. The only thing we'll be losing is Bane and his crew. Hell, I say good riddance. They can have the son of a bitch. With any luck, he's rotting in the sewers as we speak."

"And if he isn't?"

"I suspect that's one of the reasons they're planning on pulling rank."

"What?"

"If Bane is alive, the Feds will want to take him alive. They'll want to put him on trial, have their shrinks study him for the rest of his miserable life. They may have it in their heads that if he's found alive by ours, he'd be killed in retaliation."

"I suppose that's not much of a leap."

I'll tell you one thing, if our boys found that maniac, I wouldn't blame them one bit for ending him on the spot. Quite the contrary, in fact; I'd give 'em all medals. Now I realize my words would be considered blasphemy in some circles, but we're not talking about an ordinary criminal here; we're talking about the man who tried, and almost succeeded, to wipe out this entire city and every man, woman, and child in it. He's guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt; he shouldn't be entitled to due process. The whole world watched as he tried to exterminate a population of millions. If it were up to me, if he were caught alive, he'd be executed on live television that very day. What say you, Detective?"

"I can't say I disagree with your assessment, sir."

"I doubt anyone in this city would disagree with that assessment. Do you have anything?"

Garris was about to disclose the details of his newest case to his superior, but he held out at the last minute.

"Nothing, sir."

"It's back to work for the both of us then."

"Good day, Lieutenant."

"It'll be a long time before I have one of those," Elliott declared as Garris left the office.

After a particularly exhausting day, night descended on Gotham, and Will Garris readied himself for a visit to Kate Lowry's most recent place of employment.

The Garden of Eden wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill strip joint. It was neither seedy nor tacky. The place had a certain appeal, as classy as an adult entertainment venue could possibly be. In spite of its particular allure, it wasn't exactly a place Garris thought his career would take him. There wasn't an unattractive woman to be found in the den of guiltless indulgence Not even two minutes had elapsed after his entry before an enticing, half-nude vision sauntered over to greet him.

"Well hello there, stranger. This must be your first visit to our little paradise, because I could never forget a face as handsome as yours," the voluptuous redhead said in the sultriest voice he had ever heard.

"You're very perceptive."

"So this is your first time."

"I've been experiencing quite a few 'first times' as of late."

The dancer let out a genuine laugh at his double-entendre.

"Oh honey, I sincerely hope you're only referring to your presence at our fine utopia. Because if not…well, that would be a tragedy of the absolute highest magnitude," she replied as she cast him an inviting gaze.

"Happy to report that your second allusion is not at all an issue," Garris said after letting out a laugh.

"I'm Natasha. And who might you be?"

"Will Garris. Detective Will Garris, actually."

"A lawman! How exciting. Tell you what, Will. How about we head over to a private lounge and you regale me with a valiant tale or two? Doesn't that sound like a little slice of heaven?"

"I'm afraid my purpose here is strictly business."

"Like I've always said, nothing wrong with mixing a little business with pleasure."

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I'm going to have to decline. Would you be so kind as to direct me to the proprietor of this fine establishment?"

"I'd be more than happy to, but how about a little detour first?"

"I'd hate to disappoint a beautiful woman twice, but I do have a pressing matter."

"Hmm. Can't say I'm not disappointed, though. Follow me."

Garris followed the dancer to the rear of the club as electronica music blared.

"Gus!" Natasha yelled after she banged on the door.

"What?"

"There's a detective out here. He needs to see you."

"Let him in."

"He's all yours, Detective. Hope you find what you're looking for," she said before heading back to the dancing area.

Garris entered the owner's office.

"Can I help you?" asked the short, stocky, middle-aged man.

"Detective Garris, GPD," said Garris as he flashed his badge.

"Gus Freeman," the man said as he rose from his chair and extended his hand. "What can I do you for, Detective?"

"I'm here on behalf of a former employee of yours."

"I've got lots of former employees," Gus said as he lit a cigarette. "Care to be more specific?"

"Kate Lowry."

"If you're looking for her, you've come to the wrong place. She skipped out a few months back, hasn't been back since."

"What can you tell me about her?"

"She asked for a job, so I hired her. I'd have been a fool not to, the girl's a knockout. Not much of a dancer, but her looks made up for it."

"How long did she work here?"

"A month or so, not very long."

"When did you see her last?"

"Um…December 21, the last night she worked."

"What can you tell me about that night?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything unusual or suspicious happen?"

"First suppose you tell me what this is about, Detective."

"The last night of her employment here, Miss Lowry was physically attacked by a patron of this establishment on her way home."

"I had no idea. Poor kid, no wonder she didn't come back. She all right?"

"I don't know. She's been missing since Liberation Day. I need to view your surveillance footage from that night in order to try to positively identify the assailant."

"My surveillance equipment is in this next office. Gimme a minute."

Garris waited for Gus to locate the object he had come for. It took him about five minutes to find it.

"December 21. The recording runs from 6 to 2, our normal business hours."

"I'll need to take this with me."

"When will I get it back?"

"When I've completed my investigation. That's standard procedure."

"Let me know if you find her, will ya?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Freeman. As a former employer, you have no legal connection to the missing. And if she is found, I doubt the peace of mind of the person who was indirectly responsible for her mishap will be at the top of her list of priorities."

"All right, let's get something straight. You may be some hot-shot detective in your own head, but I'll not have you disrespecting me in my own place, cop or not!"

"I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Freeman. You have my apologies."

"I run a legitimate business here, not some two-bit whore house. I give girls who otherwise don't have a snowball's chance in hell of making it the opportunity to earn a respectable wage, to put food in their kids' stomachs and roofs over their heads. Under normal circumstances, my security is top-notch, but that all ended the day you genius cops were duped into the sewers by that masked freak who didn't take too kindly to your head honcho's deceptive business practices. So where the hell do you get off passing judgment on me?"

"I offended you, and you evened the score. Let's move on then, shall we."

"It's not like I have a choice in the matter."

Tell me, did Bane ever patronize this fine venue of yours?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did Bane ever come into this club during the occupation?"

"Come on! Did he strike you as the kind of guy who'd come to a place like this? Though I'll bet if he did, he wouldn't have been such a monumental asshole. If that's not literal enough for ya, the answer is 'no.' Hell no! Call me crazy, but I get the feeling this has more to do with some missing girl. Care to enlighten me a little, Detective?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but all details of my investigation are confidential."

"I figured as much. You cops just love keeping us little people in the dark about your schemes, don't ya? That's how we all ended up in that mess to begin with. The chickens sure did come home to roost, didn't they?"

"I'm not here to debate you, Mr. Freeman."

"You're in no position to debate me because if you're one of the very few decent cops left, you know damn well I'm right. Now, if there's nothing else, this place don't run itself, if you get my drift."

"Your cooperation is much appreciated."

"I'll bet. I better get my property back, I know my rights…" Gus rambled on as Garris exited his office.

As Garris navigated through the crowded club, he once again caught of Natasha, the charming redhead who offered him a private show. Once she noticed that he was looking in her direction, she decided to put her persuasive talents to the test once more.

"Having second thoughts about that dance, Detective?"

"I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time."

"My time is very valuable. If I waste that time talking to you, I'll lose money."

"You know, I'd really hate that, but I'm here on official police business. Just a couple of questions, I'd really appreciate it."

"Questions about what?"

"A former colleague of yours, Kate Lowry. Do you know her?"

"I know of her, but I don't know her on a personal level."

"What was your impression of her?"

"Definitely the shy type, kinda nervous when she first started out. Couldn't dance worth a shit, kept to herself. She didn't last long. She did seem chummy with one chick though….Jane, Jane Mitchell. That's who you should be talking to. She doesn't work here anymore either."

"I've already covered that ground. Do you know of anyone else who may have any information about Miss Lowry?"

"I keep my ear to the ground here; haven't heard a word about her. She in some kind of trouble?"

"I hope not. She's missing."

"That sucks. You must be really desperate if you came here."

"That I am. Look, if you hear anything at all, would you please give me a call?" Garris asked as he pulled his card out of his wallet.

"How about that dance, Detective? You look like you've had a long day. A little escape from reality might be just what you need."

"How much?"

"A hundred for half an hour; two hundred for an hour."

"I don't suppose you offer a police discount?"

"All men are truly created equal here."

"Half an hour."

Natasha smiled, and Garris followed her to one of the private lounges.

"Have you ever been to an adult entertainment club before, Detective?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Hmm, that means I get to set the standard. Just think of this as your first time on an airplane, with a bit more excitement, of course. There are a few rules that I must ask you to abide by. You're a cop, so I think I'm pretty safe, but this is standard procedure for all patrons. I'm going to recite these rules to you now, just like a flight attendant would do on an airplane. Rule Number 1: No touching of any kind from either party; pretty self-explanatory. Rule Number Two: No conversations of a sexual nature. In other words, don't proposition me for sex. Rule Number Three: No personal questions. Don't ask me my real name, where I live, my marital status, et cetera. Any violation of any of the rules will result in the performance being terminated. If you do or say anything which causes me to fear for my own personal safety, I will be forced to call in the bouncers, who will quickly and rather harshly remove you from the premises, and you will be banned from this establishment for life. In addition, my fee will be collected up front and is, of course, non-refundable. Do you agree to the rules of the private lounge, Detective?"

"As a sworn official of the Gotham Police Department, I agree to abide by all of the aforementioned rules," he promised as he handed her the money.

"Excellent. Now what kind of a dance would you like?"

"There's more than one?"

"I'll simplify it for you; fast or slow?"

"Slow. I like to be able to hear myself think."

"All right. Let me set the music, and I'll be right back."

Natasha got down to business as soon as the music began. Ever the dedicated detective, Garris used the dance as an opportunity to probe Natasha for information.

"You said no personal questions. May I ask other kinds of questions?" asked Garris.

"Jeez, you really are a cop."

"How is it that this club remained open during the occupation?"

"This city was full of panic-stricken men with money to spend. Think about it: If you were facing being blown to smithereens by a nuclear bomb, wouldn't you want to spend your money on a little pleasure? It's not an option many people have. After all, you can't take it with you. What were you doing during the occupation?"

"I was out of town at the time."

"Lucky you."

"I'll bet you've seen every kind of man there is during your tenure here."

"Pretty much. When you get right down to it, men are all basically the same whether they be rich, poor, married, single, gay, straight. They all have the same needs, the same desires. They're simple creatures, really."

"And women?"

"Women are the most complex beings on this planet. We are multilayered and multifaceted. No two women are alike. You men are at a severe disadvantage when it comes to trying to understand us."

"Can't argue with you there. Tell me, Natasha, do you think Bane is the same as the rest of us?"

"You must be kidding," Natasha laughed.

"Actually, I'm not."

"I'm no shrink, but I'd say he may be one of the very few exceptions to the rule."

"Did he ever come to this club?"

"What would make you think such a thing?"

"Let's say, for argument's sake, that he had come here. Let's also say that he wanted a private show with you. Would you have taken your clothes off and danced for the man who was planning to kill you and everyone you ever loved?"

"Did you pay me a hundred bucks just so you could get me alone and asked me fucked up questions? Is that your idea of a good time?"

"You're right, that was totally out of line. I've had a long week. I don't know where my mind is."

"Yeah, that's kind of obvious. Look, I'm usually pretty thick-skinned. But those wounds haven't healed yet. I don't know if they ever will, to tell you the truth."

"My apologies, Natasha. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Do you want me to finish or not?"

"What would you like to do?"

"I already have your money; I couldn't care less if you waste it or not."

"It's pretty late. I think it would be in my best interest to call it a night."

"Suit yourself," said Natasha as she headed for the exit.

"Wait," Garris called out.

"What?"

"Please give me a call if you hear anything," he beseeched as he slipped her another 50 dollars.

"You actually think you have to pay me to do the right thing?" she scoffed as she returned the money.

"No, it's just that…Christ. Strike two. I've hit a pretty big wall in this investigation. It's like you said, I'm desperate. I just want to find her, preferably alive."

I'll call you if I hear anything. You have my word."

"Thank you. I apologize for my rudeness."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I just made a hundred bucks for ten minutes of work."

"Thank you, Natasha."

"Good night, Detective."

Garris left the club with the surveillance disc and hoped Jane was still up as he found her in his contact list.

"Yeah?"

"Miss Mitchell, it's Detective Garris."

"I know who's calling as soon as the phone rings. Welcome to the 21st century, Garris."

"Old habits die hard."

"And please can the title and surname. Just call me 'Jane.'"

"All right then, Jane. I guess that means you can call me 'Will.' I just left the club. I've got the surveillance footage from the night of Kate's attack. I'm heading home now to examine it."

"I still think you're wasting your time on that. Even if you're able to ID the shitbag, what good's it gonna do?"

"We've been over this."

"Yeah, I know. Murder is murder, blah, blah, blah."

"How are you holding up?"

"Let's see, I'm single, unemployed, and responsible for my friend's disappearance. I think those predicaments encompass the phrases 'up the creek without a paddle' and 'guilty as sin.'"

"Hang in there. I'll call you with any new developments."

"Thanks, Will."

Jane hung up the phone and decided to watch TV. A few seconds later, her phone rang again. On the display was an unrecognized number. Her hopes soared that it was Kate, and she eagerly picked up the phone.

"Katie?"

"Jane?"

"Kyle? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

"Where the hell are you?"

"Blackgate."

"Are you okay?"

"No, Jane! I'm in prison, I'm anything but okay!"

"Do you know how worried I've been? I thought you were dead! How could you do something so stupid?"

"Christ, Jane, if I wanted a lecture, I would have called my mother. I've only got two minutes. Visiting hours are this Saturday at 4? Can you come?"

"I'm glad you're alive, but I don't even know if I like you anymore after the stunt you pulled. You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"God, it's so good to hear your voice again, even if you are bitching at me."

"You could have heard it a hell of a lot more if you hadn't fucked up so stupendously!" Jane further chided him.

"I know, I know. Listen, you can tear me a new one on Saturday. I've gotta go, my time's up. Will you be here?"

"Yes," Jane sighed. "I'll be there."

"Thanks, baby. You're an angel. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."  
**  
Location: Gotham City**  
**Date: February 25, twelve days after liberation**

Jane arrived at Blackate half an hour early in order to have enough time to go through the security protocols in place for visitors. Her belongings were thoroughly searched, and she signed a document that essentially waived her right to privacy while speaking with Kyle. Four o'clock came and went; by the time he finally arrived, it was a quarter after. He looked just the same, save the standard-issue orange prison jumpsuit. After he sat down behind the plate glass barrier, they both picked up their respective phones.

"Thanks for coming, baby. God, I've missed you."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You obviously weren't too concerned with missing me when you ran off."

"Look, I'm sorry Jane. How many times do you expect me to apologize?"

"How could you do something so stupid?"

"It's pretty simple Jane; I needed money, and in case you hadn't noticed, there weren't too many ways to make it."

"We were okay! We had enough money at the time and a roof over our heads. We weren't starving in the streets!"

"I had an opportunity, and I took it. It wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had, in retrospect, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"When did you get here?"

"The night I called you."

"Are they going to tack more time onto your sentence?"

"I sure as hell hope not, but I wouldn't be surprised. I may have some small glimmer of hope though."

"How's that?"

"Rumor has it that all the inmates are going to file a class-action lawsuit against the city because of what Gordon did. Some big-shot lawyer's supposed to be taking the case if it the courts will hear it."

"When?"

"I don't know. Like I said, I think it's just a rumor at this point. How've you been holding up?"

"I saw you at City Hall that day. I had the bright idea of going to look for you because I was afraid you were in trouble. Katie insisted on going with me, and I haven't seen her since. I lost my boyfriend and my best friend in the span of a couple of days; how the hell do you think I'm holding up?"

"Jane…" he hesitated.

"What?"

"Jesus, you're gonna be even more pissed after I tell you what I'm about to tell you."

"Just spit it out, Kyle."

"I know what happened to Kate, or at least I think I do."

"What? What happened?"

"I was at the rear entrance of City Hall. The plan was for us to escape, but our ride never showed, so we were stuck there. While I was waiting, I saw some guy take Kate to a van."

"Oh my God!" Jane exclaimed with a worried look. "She was kidnapped?"

Kyle nodded as Jane began to sob.

"Well, it's official; I'm the worst friend on the planet. I've gotta go," she announced as she started to hang up the phone.

"Jane, wait a minute! You're leaving me already?"

"I filed a Missing Person Report on Katie. I've got a contact at the department who's on the case. I've got to tell him what you just told me."

"A contact at the department? Since when are you a fan of the cops? It's their fault I'm in this fucking hellhole! What are you, a badge bunny now?"

"You've got some fucking nerve, you know that? If I hadn't cared so much for your dumb ass, Katie wouldn't be missing."

"You act like you care about her more than you do me."

"There's a big difference between you and her, Kyle; she's innocent, you're not. You've got no one to blame but yourself for being in here, so stop trying to pass the buck. The cops didn't force you to rob that store."

"Fine, go if you have to. But before you do, I need you to put some money on my books. I'm flat broke, and there's some shit I really need."

"Like what?"

"Smokes, for starters. I'm fucking dying of nicotine withdrawal. I can't sleep at night."

"I'll come back with your share of the money and deposit it into your account here."

"Visiting hours are the same time next week."

"I can't do this, Kyle."

"Do what?"

"Too much has happened, and I can't go back. We can't go back."

"Look Jane, I know things are rough right now, but we can get through this. If this class action thing pans out, I could be out of here in under a year. Don't bail on me now Jane, I need you."

"You had no problem bailing on me, did you? Were you even going to come back? Or were you just using me for sex and a place to crash?"

"Of course I was going to come back. I was trying to ensure our future, baby. I did what I did for both of us. I know it was stupid, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Kyle," Jane reiterated as she hung up the phone and turned her back.

"Jane! Don't do this, Jane! I need you!" he called out.

Jane could faintly hear his final pleas, but she left the visitors area without looking back. In that moment, she was faced with the harsh realization that everyone she had ever cared for was gone, and there was not a thing she could do about it. She had never felt more helpless in her entire life. As she waited on the ferry that would take her back to the mainland, she called the only person left who she felt she might be able to count on.

"What's up, Jane?"

"I have some bad news."

**Author's Note****: I hated to postpone a chapter featuring the main characters after that last one, but I felt I had to touch on the goings-on in Gotham once again. I will be doing that intermittently, but those departures are integral parts of the story. I know they are not as enthralling as those featuring the main characters because readers aren't typically as invested in and acquainted with background characters, but I feel they are essential in the development of my little tale. The next chapter will be focused on the main characters, at least that's the way I have it planned as of now. Please feel free to leave me your thoughts, as reviews are like a drug I just can't get enough of ;) As always, thanks to all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. Extra-special thanks to Aur0ra, AvalonTheLadyKiller , Comingsummers, lunaticathart, Schuneko, and southernlove87 for your very encouraging multiple reviews. **


	19. Chapter 18

It had been nearly two weeks since Bane's offering of a truce between him and his captive. It really didn't seem like that long to Kate, as time passed rather quickly due to her immersion in the world of film. She watched at least two movies a day on average; the rest of her time was spent sleeping and attempting to find innovative ways of assembling the rudimentary ingredients of the kitchen cupboards into well-balanced meals, a task at which she failed more often than not. After all, there was only so much one could do with canned and boxed foods without the benefit of bread and condiments.

Bane spent the majority of his time in his room and office, only emerging to stock the fireplace with wood and to use the bathroom. While he was in her presence, she only spoke to him when he addressed her on the few occasions he did; the way things were going, it seemed like their deep discussion two weeks prior was both their first and last real conversation. She figured his idea of a civil code of conduct meant that they would barely speak to one another for the duration of their stay. Truth be told, that suited Kate just fine, as Bane's moods were capricious at best, and she didn't want to run the risk of her liberal tongue flaring his impetuous temper at an inopportune moment.

She heard him talking on his phone a few times and correctly assumed the person on the other end was Barsad. She wondered if he ever asked about her, ever thought about her. Was it possible that he missed her, even just ever so slightly? Or did he consider her his own personal burden and thus glad to be rid of her? She didn't spend too much time pondering it, but enough that she chided herself for wasting even just a few minutes thinking about the man who had essentially downgraded her life from bad to worse.

After showering and dressing, Kate wandered into the kitchen to prepare her usual bowl of oatmeal. She would have loved to have had a piece of fresh fruit to complement her bland breakfast, but made do with a sprinkling of cinnamon to enhance the insipid porridge.

As she ate her morning meal, Kate's mind wandered. More often than she did Barsad, Kate thought about Jane. She wondered if she ever found her boyfriend, whose disappearance was indirectly responsible for Kate's own abduction. By that time, Kate was fully aware that her decision to accompany Jane that fateful day was, without a doubt, the biggest mistake of her life. The entire episode was quite possibly the perfect example of the old saying, 'No good deed goes unpunished.' Since her kidnapping, she was able to see things so much more clearly, which was an example of another well-known aphorism: Hindsight is 20/20.

Jane barely knew Kyle, and Kate barely knew Jane. Kate didn't know Kyle at all aside from the fact that he was Jane's escaped convict boyfriend who could crack a safe like nobody's business. They were three people who, under ordinary conditions, would not have felt obligated to one another in the least; they were acquaintances at best. But in fallen Gotham, they became an unlikely triad bound to one another by fear, despair, and loneliness. They were three lost souls who found one another under the bleakest of circumstances. Kate had been a loner her entire life, but in the face of imminent death, she wanted to know what it was like to feel close to someone again before the bomb ended the existence of every man, woman, and child within a 56-mile radius.

Forging lasting relationships of any kind was a talent Kate didn't seem to be endowed with. Her last attempt at a romantic relationship was about two years ago and was rather half-hearted. While working at Gotham City Grill, a mid-priced restaurant in midtown, she met a man named Eric Martin, a business grad student at Gotham University. Kate didn't exactly have a specific type, but if she had, Eric definitely fit the bill; he was attractive, intelligent, and charming. She met him on a Friday night when he came in with a group of his college buddies. He flirted with her throughout his visit to the restaurant and left her an incredibly generous tip along with his phone number. Kate was flattered by the gesture, but hesitated calling him for several days. Almost a week went by before she mustered up enough courage to take the first step. She could remember it like it was yesterday. She could still feel the fluttering of her heart as the phone rang once, twice, three times….

_"Hello?"_

_"Hi," she said nervously. "Um, I don't know if you remember me or not. This is Kate, um, I waited on you last week at GCG."_

_"Are you kidding? I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since. I was beginning to lose hope that you'd call. How are you?"_

_"Fine, I'm fine. I was just calling to um, well…I'm calling because you gave me your number," she said blatantly, followed by an anxious chuckle._

_"Well, I'm glad you did. Talk about making a guy sweat! What took you so long?"_

_"It's been a week, not a month!"_

_"Touché. So listen, I know you've probably seen enough of restaurants in your day, but I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime. If you're not up for that, I'm flexible. Tell you what, you just pick the place, and I'm there."_

_"I must admit I'm not very hip to the city's hot spots."_

_"Well, what do you like to do? Are you a coffee shop, poetry-reading type, thrill-seeker, sports enthusiast?"_

_"No, no, and no. God, I must sound like the most uninteresting person on the planet."_

_"On the contrary. You sound mysterious, and I'm always up for solving a mystery. Tell you what, some friends of mine are having a little get-together this Saturday. Nothing fancy, just some good conversation with good people. You won't be the only woman there, as most of my friends are spoken for. How's that sound?"_

_" I'm working Saturday. I'm just disappointing you at every turn here," she fretted._

_"Not at all. We can do that some other time. When's your next day off?"_

_"Monday."_

_"All right. How about Monday, 6 p.m., Robinson Park, main entrance?"_

_"Sounds great."_

_"So I'll see you Monday?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Until Monday then."_

_"Monday."_

Kate was jolted from her romantic reverie by Bane's sudden entrance into the kitchen. He failed to acknowledge her presence at the kitchen table as he rooted through the cabinets for something to eat.

"If you're looking for a mouth-watering, well-balanced meal, I'm afraid you're out of luck," Kate said in attempt at light humor.

"I've had far worse meals than what is here."

"Really? Like what?"

He faced her and stared in silence momentarily.

"Sorry. I guess I just can't keep my mouth shut sometimes," she said as she looked down to the floor.

"I suppose I cannot expect you to adhere to a complete code of silence at all times. Eventually words form in your head and find their way out of your mouth. I cannot admonish you for being human."

"Thanks…I think. So I get that you don't like questions, but they are a fundamental part of conversation, along with answers."

"Since you seem to be so unsatisfied with our choice of cuisine, tell me, what does your ideal diet consist of?"

"Nothing in particular; I just like variety. I like fruits and vegetables, preferably fresh."

"What types of organic fare do you favor?"

"I like apples, oranges, pears, pineapple, grapes, peaches, spinach, cucumbers, carrots, broccoli, mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans. I'm sure there's more, but that's just off the top of my head."

"After hearing that list of yours, I also find myself somewhat dissatisfied with our current offerings."

"That wasn't my intention; I was just answering your question."

"Relax, Miss Lowry; I was merely making an observation," he replied as he sat down across from her.

"Those things would be luxuries. I'd be perfectly content with simpler things like condiments and bread. A tuna sandwich with mayo, salt, and pepper with a pickle spear on the side would be just fine by me. More than fine, actually. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"This residence is stocked with non-perishable items for a very specific reason; it doesn't receive many visitors."

"Yeah, the copious layers of dust kind of tipped me off to that fact."

"Speaking of which, I've noticed you have been very fastidious in that regard."

"It's not like I have much else to do, besides the movies. Once I've watched all of them, I'm afraid I may very well die of sheer boredom."

"There are other activities in which you could engage here."

"Such as?"

"I noticed you were exercising quite frequently at our former location. You could continue that, if you so desire."

"It was easy with all the equipment."

"You do not need equipment to exercise. You can do as I did and simplify your routine; sit-ups, push-ups, stretches. You can achieve nearly the same results."

"I hadn't really thought about that. So that's how you've been spending your time in there. I suppose it is one of your areas of expertise."

"Though I must admit, our current diet is rather inadequate for peak physical performance. I've been supplementing mine with these," he said as he retrieved a protein drink from the refrigerator.

"Those aren't non-perishable."

"I brought them with me. Eventually, the supply will become exhausted."

"That reminds me, how do you eat and drink with…" her words came to a halt.

"I take it off," he interrupted. "How did you think I ate and drank, through intravenous tubes?"

"That was one of my hypotheses," she grinned nervously. "So what's in those things?"

"Another question. I'm beginning to believe you simply cannot help yourself."

"Like I said, an integral component of conversation."

Bane gazed at the ingredient label on his drink and recited the ingredients.

"Water, calcium caseinate, sodium caseinate, vegetable oil, milk protein isolate, and whey, in addition to various essential vitamins and minerals."

"Sounds yummy," she replied sarcastically.

"You're in the kitchen; were you planning on eating something?"

"I was just going to make a bowl of oatmeal. I have that almost every morning."

"I suppose I will leave you to it then," he said as he got up from his chair.

"Do you like oatmeal?"

"It is an excellent source of fiber," he remarked.

"True, but do you like it?"

"As much as I like anything else. I am not selective when it comes to nourishment."

"Well, I'm going to make myself a bowl. Would you like a bowl…or two or three?"

Once again, she was met with that particular stare of his, but this time, it was not discomforting.

"I'm not going to poison it or anything. You can watch me make it, if you like."

Bane was taken aback by her unexpected offer. It was a simple act of courtesy, but he was unaccustomed to such acts and did not want to feel indebted to her in any way whatsoever.

"I have already eaten, but thank you just the same," he responded before he retreated into his inner sanctum.

Just when she thought she was making a bit of headway, he shot her down again. He was impossible to figure out, and Kate didn't know why she even bothered trying anymore. Just as she was about to turn off the faucet, she left it run until the pot held enough water for two bowls. In that moment, she decided to try a new approach: killing him with kindness.

When it reached a rolling boil, Kate poured the scalding water into two bowls of oats and stirred them until they reached their desired consistency. She retrieved a miniscule jar of cinnamon that was nearly empty and sprinkled each bowl with the sweet spice. She quickly devoured her serving and left Bane's on the kitchen table with a strategically-placed spoon next to it. After living with him for nearly three weeks, Kate had his routine down pat. She knew he would be back in the kitchen within the hour. It suddenly dawned on her that by that time, the oatmeal would be hard as a rock. As a result, she decided a bold gesture was warranted.

She approached his door and knocked lightly.

"What is it?"

"I know you said you already ate, but I made you a bowl anyway, just in case you change your mind."

A period of dead silence followed, and Kate retreated into the living room, where she lied down on the couch and for the second time that day became lost in the not-so-distant past.

_She arrived at Robinson park the following Monday at 6 on the dot. She waited, but not for long._

_"Hello, gorgeous," said Eric._

_"Hi," said Kate with a smile._

_"I'm glad you came," he admitted as he sat down._

_"Me, too."_

_"I really don't know what made me choose this place."_

_"Why's that?"_

_"I never come here. As a matter of fact, I've never even been here before," he laughed. "It just seemed appropriate. Do you come here often?"_

_"I've been here a few times. It's nice, peaceful most of the time," she smiled._

_"How was the rest of your week?"_

_"Busy."_

_"I can relate. You know, you hear horror stories about grad school, but you can never fully appreciate them until you've experienced it firsthand. Sometimes I feel like all I do is write papers."_

_A short silence followed his words._

_"That was insensitive, wasn't it?" he asked._

_"No, not at all," she assured him." You're just talking about your life. That is what people do, isn't it?"_

_"Yeah, but you're out in the real world, working your ass off, dealing with jerks day in and day out. And here I am, some spoiled college boy complaining about his charmed life. I'm sorry, Kate."_

_" I'm a waitress; you knew that when you met me. And you're a grad student. The fact that we lead vastly different lives doesn't bother me. But if it bothers you, why did you give me your number?"_

_"Whoa, whoa! You've got it all wrong. I was just saying that I shouldn't be griping to you about school."_

_"College is a big part of your life. Why shouldn't you talk about it? I'd like to hear about it."_

_"Look, it's not like you're going to be a waitress forever. You do plan on getting an education, right?"_

_"That's a nice dream, but pretty impossible when you have to work a full-time job with varying hours, along with a seasonal part-time job, just to get by."_

_"What about your parents? Won't they help you?"_

_"My parents aren't a part of my life."_

_"What about the rest of your family?"_

_"I was in foster care until I was 18. I don't even know where my parents are, or if they're even alive. I never met my grandparents, nor anyone else in my family. I'll bet your next question will pertain to financial aid. Well, I filled out the application, but according to the government, I earn too much to qualify for full financial aid. I do, however, qualify for partial aid, but if I were to make up the difference on my own, I couldn't afford to pay my rent. So I guess I could go to college if I didn't mind living in a cardboard box."_

_"Wow, this is…awkward."_

_"I didn't think so, but since you do, I'll spare you the awkwardness," Kate declared as she rose from the bench. Oh, and feel free to delete my number; I doubt you'll be needing it again," Kate prognosticated as she stormed off._

_"Hold on," said Eric as he scurried after her._

_"Look, it's obvious that our vastly different stations in life makes you uncomfortable. I'm not a potential interest to you; I'm a charity case. I should have deduced that from the $100 tip you left me."_

_"Kate, that wasn't what I meant."_

_"Then what did you mean? Be completely direct, but speak slowly, and be sure to use common words so an ignoramus like me can understand."_

_Kate stood there for a minute or two. When it was obvious he wasn't going to respond, she walked out of the park as fast as she could._

Kate's prediction was accurate; Eric never called her again. In retrospect, she knew she may have went on the defensive too early and been too hard on him due to her deep-seated insecurities, but by that time, she couldn't bring herself to care. She could tell by their second meeting that she and Eric, or anyone like him, would never work out in the long run because they would never be able to relate to one another. She could have diffused the situation, dated him for as long as his interest lasted, allowed him to wine and dine her and lavish her with material things she could never have afforded. But she couldn't bring herself to fake it; that was not who she was.

She held to her belief that in order for a relationship to work, there had to be a strong, ideally unbreakable, connection; a connection she thought would never exist, at least not for her. She had been unlucky in love three times. Her first relationship began in high school when she was 15. It lasted for five months, until the boy ended it due to pressure from his mother, who did not want her son involved with someone beneath him on the social ladder. Kate's next foray into the waters of love happened when she was 19; the relationship was short-lived and ended when she found out that the man was married with two children. Devastated by the deception, she didn't date again until two years later. At 21, she met a guy at work who intrigued her and decided it was time to give love another shot. The relationship waxed and waned until she ended it for good when she spotted him, the only man she had ever loved, at a café with his ex-girlfriend.

After wasting far too much time reflecting on disheartening memories, Kate decided to exercise as Bane suggested. She repositioned the coffee table against the wall in order to accommodate her workout. She did as many sit-ups and push-ups as she could for as long as she could. She was on the verge of collapse when he found her heaving for air.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Exercising," she said breathily as she continued.

He slowly approached her but was sure not to encroach upon her personal space. Every inch of her body was drenched with sweat. At any other time, she would have been startled by his close proximity, but at that time, she was too exhausted to care. He advanced until she was at arm's length and gently pressed his index finger on her carotid artery; her heart rate was ridiculously high. His touch was gentle; a welcome reminder that he was human. A shiver traveled up her spine, but it was not out of fear.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.

"I don't know. There's no clock out here," she reminded him betwixt gasps.

"Are you working out or trying to kill yourself?"

"Maybe a little of both," she retorted.

"Go sit down on the couch, and stay there," he insisted.

Bane went into the kitchen. When he returned, he handed her a towel and a bottle of water.

"Drink this, but do it slowly."

Kate took the bottle and sipped it slowly. He gave her several minutes to catch her breath before he spoke.

"Exercise is all about pacing yourself," he said as he sat down at the other end of the couch.

Kate took a break from the water and wiped away her perspiration with the hand towel he had given her.

"I don't know what came over me. It's like once I started, I couldn't stop."

"When your body tells you to stop, you must always heed its warning. It will never tell you wrong."

Kate's heart rate normalized after a few minutes of rest, and she was able to speak without gasping.

"I guess I overdid it."

"You could have collapsed from exhaustion if I hadn't come out here when I did. Were you honestly trying to commit suicide by exercise?"

"No, I was just joking," she assured him.

"I could establish an appropriate routine for you, if you like."

"Really?"

"It's not like either of us have much to do here, in all honesty. I employ both a morning and evening routine. I'm not implying we should go through our routines together, but I could give you a few pointers to keep you from overexerting yourself."

"Why not?"

"'Why not' what?"

"Why shouldn't we do our routines together? We're both doing the same thing, it makes perfect sense."

"Though there is a certain degree of truth to that, I prefer to spend my time alone."

"I understand," Kate said with a nod. "In my old life, I almost always wanted to be alone."

"Why was that?"

"When you're alone, nothing can hurt you. You don't have to live with the fear of losing someone. It's…safer." A brief interlude of silence followed her candid admission, which she regretted almost immediately. "I'm sorry," Kate apologized as her eyes cast downward. "I didn't mean to go there."

"You said 'almost.'"

"What?"

"You said you **almost** always wanted to be alone. When did you not want to be alone?"

"I didn't want to be alone in my final days. I didn't want to die alone. Life's one thing, but death is something entirely different. I can only speak for myself, but I can't fathom anyone who would choose to die alone."

"We all die alone, Miss Lowry. Whether or not we are surrounded by familiar or unfamiliar faces does not change that. Why were you at City Hall that day?"

"I was looking for someone."

"Who were you looking for?"

"A guy named Kyle Weaver. Do you know him?"

"Should I know him?"

"He worked for you back in Gotham, as it turned out. He was an inmate at Blackgate before you…you know."

"Many men worked for me there. I was not on a first name basis with all of them."

"Right."

"This Weaver, is he a paramour of yours?"

"No. He is, or **was**, a paramour of a friend of mine."

"Tell me about this friend."

"Her name's Jane. I met her at the club I worked at."

"Were you close?"

"As close as you could be to someone you only knew for a few months."

"So, after being content with a solitary life for several years, you developed a sudden urge for a human connection when confronted with your own mortality."

"Yes."

"Was there ever a time before that when you craved a connection?"

"There were many times. I can't imagine anyone would choose to be alone **all** the time. Solitude can be quite agreeable to some, myself included, but after a while, everyone gets lonely eventually."

"I have pondered existence on an uninhabited island many times throughout my life. The idea has never once disagreed with me."

"Is that what you're going to do? Live out the rest of your days on some deserted island?"

"Perhaps we shall continue this conversation another day. The fire is getting low. I must gather more wood."

"And I am in desperate need of a shower," Kate added as she headed towards the bathroom.

Bane rose from the couch and went outside. She knew she may have gone too far, that the fire may have been a thinly-veiled excuse to elude her final question. Nevertheless, he didn't appear angry, so his abrupt withdrawal was not upsetting. By the time Kate emerged from the bathroom, Bane was arranging the kindling in the hearth. As he ignited the blaze and tended to the fresh fire, she contemplated attempting to engage him once again, but scrapped the idea; it was Bane's world, and Kate was just living in it.

Kate spent the remainder of the day organizing the kitchen cupboards, an absolutely pointless task if there ever was one, but she would do just about anything to keep busy. At around 5 that evening, Bane came into the kitchen.

"I must eat. Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Getting there, yeah."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Soup and crackers, probably."

"Are you partial to any particular variety?" Bane asked as he perused through the various flavors of soups in one of the cupboards.

"Not really."

"Sit," he said as he pulled out a chair.

"What for?"

"You said you were hungry. You said you were going to have soup. I shall have soup as well," he said as he poured one can of soup into a bowl, followed by another. After heating both bowls in the microwave, he sat her bowl on the table in front of her, along with a spoon.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

"Shall I leave? I know you like to be alone when you eat."

"Do you prefer to eat here?"

"It really doesn't make any difference to me."

"We should let the soup cool first."

"All right. Since we're both waiting, can I ask you something?"

"It's not like I can prevent you from doing so."

"What's with the sudden hospitality?"

"You were hospitable to me this morning; I'm simply returning your generosity. The oatmeal was very good, by the way."

"What?"

"The oatmeal you left for me. I ate it this morning."

"But you couldn't have. I was sitting here the whole time, I would have noticed you come out."

"I was surprised when you did not. You seemed a million miles away."

"Yeah, I guess I was."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Just life in general."

"Your life in general?"

Kate nodded.

"You've indicated that you have been decidedly unsatisfied with your life thus far. I would like to know why."

"I'm sure you already know the answer to that. Didn't you read somewhere in my dossier?"

"Aside from your age, former residence, occupation, and parental disappointment, I know nothing about you, Miss Lowry."

"You know all there is to know: Apathetic parents, foster care, shitty jobs, almost raped, Barsad, you. That's it in a nutshell."

"There is much more than that, I'm sure of it."

"What about you? You know way more about me than I do about you. Why should I tell you more about myself when you're unwilling to reciprocate?"

"You already know more than you should."

"What's your name?"

"You know my name."

"I meant your real…"

"That is the only name that matters, the only name that has ever mattered, and the only name that will ever matter," he said resolutely.

"Fair enough. Well, not really, but I'm throwing in the towel anyway."

"A wise choice. The soup has cooled. I will need you to take yours to wherever it is you prefer to eat."

After Kate left the kitchen, Bane carefully but quickly removed his mask and shoveled the soup into his mouth as fast as he could. Not even five minutes had elapsed before he finished. He then replaced his mask and went back into his quarters.

In the living room, Kate finished her soup as well. It was close to 6, and Kate decided to break her rule of only two movies per day. After narrowing her choices down to three, she declared _From Here to Eternity_ the winner and popped it into the DVD player. She took the afghan that was draped on the couch and wrapped it around her while enjoying the warmth and soothing crackling of the fire. All in all, it had been a good day, under the most unusual of circumstances, of course.

As the film neared its conclusion, Kate was drifting off to sleep. She was roused by a sudden noise outside, but she didn't stir, as she attributed it to animal activity. Just as her eyes again began to close, disaster struck.

To Kate's acute horror, the front door was unceremoniously breached, and two men charged in. Kate let out a scream and leapt from the couch. She attempted to take cover in her room, but one of the men grabbed her and threw her onto the floor. She tried as hard as she could to fight back, but the assailant easily overpowered her and began beating her into submission. Alerted to Kate's screams, Bane reached under his bed, grabbed his pistol, and bolted into the living room. He fired the first bullet at the man who was assaulting Kate and then pointed the firearm at the other man, who was attempting to abscond with the TV.

The man froze in fear as Bane loomed in front of him with his gun drawn. He spoke in a language Kate could not understand, but Bane apparently could because he engaged in a brief conversation with the intruder, who carefully set the TV back atop the stand and raised his hands in surrender. After rambling on for a just a minute, Bane shot him in the head.

In response to the second shot, Kate let out another scream and crawled to the nearest corner. She put her hand up to her face to assess the damage. She then slowly removed her hand from her face; it was bathed in blood. After ensuring that the men were no more, Bane slowly approached Kate, who was still cowering in the corner.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Trembling and unable to utter a single word, she extended her hand to display the blood.

"You're in shock. I need to make sure you don't have any additional wounds. Will you let me do this?"

Again she nodded.

He moved closer in order to ascertain the extent of her injuries. He meticulously examined her and found that, aside from the bloody nose, she was unharmed. Just as he began to move away, she reached for him, buried her face into his chest, and wept uncontrollably.

He wanted to expel her, he wanted to demand that she stop bawling like a baby, he wanted to do anything that would cause her to release her grip on him. He wanted to do those things, but he couldn't. He had not experienced full-on human contact that was not in the form of an attack in years, perhaps even a decade. She was so soft, so warm. In that moment, she wasn't afraid of him. In that moment, he was her savior. She could have retreated to her room in unadulterated fear, but instead, she sought comfort and solace in his embrace. In that moment, she needed him. He knew what any other human would do, but he was not any other human being. The last person who had hugged him was a scrawny, ten-year-old child. For the first time in a long time, he decided to suppress his initial instinct.

"It's all right. You're all right now," he consoled her as he cradled her with one arm and stroked her hair with the other.

If anyone could have seen what was transpiring in that remote cabin at that particular time, they would have thought Kate insane, seeking solace in the arms of a cold-blooded mass murderer. But at that time, she wanted; no, she needed human contact, someone to touch, someone to remind her what it was like to be human. For just a split second, she wondered if it was possible that Bane needed the very same thing.

He could have pushed her away. He could have reprimanded her for her emotional release and banished her to her room, but he didn't. Instead, he accepted her embrace and attempted to soothe her. His body was hard as steel; he was hard yet soft at the same time. His touch was more comforting than she ever imagined it would be. In those brief moments, he was not the man who tried to obliterate an entire city; he was, once again, the man who saved her life.

Once she regained her composure, Kate let go of Bane and went into the bathroom to wash the blood from her face and hands. When she returned, he was examining the corpses of the unlucky burglars.

"Are they dead?" she asked.

"Very. I will need to dispose of the bodies. You will accompany me."

"What? Why?"

"This cabin is no longer secure."

"You actually think I'd run out there after what just happened!?" she protested.

"You should go to your room while I load the bodies. I'll come for you when I am through."

Kate did as he told her and went to her room. It didn't take Bane long.

"Let's go," he ordered from outside her bedroom door.

Kate followed Bane to the Land Rover, and they took their respective seats. Bane drove the vehicle deeper and deeper into the forest, and Kate wondered what he was going to do with them.

"What did you say to him?" she asked.

"I asked him who he was. He said he and his associate were vagabonds. Then I told him to put down the TV."

"If they hadn't done what they did, if they had just knocked on the door and asked for some food…"

"You would have acquiesced?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I know what it's like to be hungry."

"Well, they didn't, did they? They broke it down, and they both probably would have raped and then killed you. And they would not have thought twice about it."

Kate found herself at a loss because she knew he was right. After driving for several minutes, Bane stopped and parked the vehicle.

"Though I will take no pleasure in you witnessing what you're about to, I'm afraid it is necessary."

"Why?"

"You know very well why."

"Please let me stay here. I won't run, I swear."

"I'm afraid that isn't good enough."

"I'm more afraid of what else is out here than I am of you."

"It's a chance I cannot take."

"I can't. I won't."

"Testing my patience at this juncture would be very unwise, Miss Lowry."

For once in her life, Kate would stand her ground.

"I don't care. I'm not going," she declared as she looked into his eyes.

"Your refusal will do you no good in the end, it will only worsen your predicament."

"If you drag me with you, I will fight you every step of the way. I will scream to the top of my lungs, which could very well worsen your predicament."

She could see the anger building in his eyes.

"I could kill you right now. I probably should, you are proving to be more trouble than you are worth," he said with venom in his voice.

"Leave me here," she demanded quietly without breaking her stare. "I give you my word I will not get out of this car. I promise you I will be here when you get back."

Bane weighed his options for a few moments before he made the only decision he could.

"And I promise you that if you escape, I will find you, and I will kill you. And I will deny you a swift, painless death," he warned her.

Bane quickly exited the vehicle and lugged the corpses and required supplies beyond the pines. Kate didn't know how he was disposing of them, and she didn't want to. What she did know was that she had seen enough death, despair, and destruction in her life, which is why she stuck to her guns and refused to capitulate to Bane's austere ultimatum. Her stomach churned at the thought of what he was doing out there in the middle of those deep, dark woods.

Bane wasted no time as he completed his morbid undertaking. His first order of business was to dig a substantial hole. He then deposited their remains into the hole, doused them with lye, and filled the hole with the previously dug soil. He packed the soil tightly using the shovel and his massive body weight. The final touch was to replace the scant brush that had been removed during the excavation.

When Bane returned to the vehicle, he was somewhat surprised, but relieved, to see Kate's silhouette in the passenger side. Neither of them spoke a word during the short drive back to the cabin.

As they approached the decimated door, Bane surveyed the wreckage as Kate looked on.

"Can you fix it?"

"No. I will have to remove the kitchen door and use it as a substitute. I have a spare deadbolt that should fit. It's late, you should rest."

"I need a shower first," Kate replied as she dragged her beleaguered body into the bathroom.

While Kate showered and settled into bed, Bane went to work on switching out the doors. He was not a man who believed in luck very much, but he could not deny the fact that luck was very much on his side considering that all of the doors in the cabin were of similar size. If it had not been for that fact, relocation would have been his only option.

As he went about removing the doors, his thoughts turned to Kate. He was sure she would try to escape if given the opportunity, but she hadn't. The truth was, she could have escaped; easily, in fact. By the time he was done burying the bodies, she could have gotten a few miles before he would have even known she was gone. And despite his assertion to the contrary, he most likely would not have found her; the woods were seemingly limitless, and there were plenty of places to hide. Perhaps she was being truthful when she said her fear of what may lie in the forest was stronger than her fear of him. Or maybe she was lying; maybe the reason she kept her word was because she feared what he would most certainly do to her if she had escaped and he found her.

After his second unexpected task of that day was complete, he was exhausted and ready for bed, but he decided to look in on Kate before he did so.

"What time is it?" she asked as she sat at attention.

"Quarter to 3. I thought I would find you sleeping."

"How could I possibly sleep with all that racket you were making out there? Besides, I'm too wound up. What if another band of lunatics busts in here? And what if they have guns next time?" Kate asked fearfully.

"It was an isolated incident. You have nothing to fear."

The way Bane said it, how he said it, made her believe it.

"Here, take this," he said as he offered her a pill.

"What is it?"

"Xanax. It will help you sleep."

Kate laughed as she took the pill from his hand.

"Is something funny?"

"No, it's just that…I used to take those back in Gotham. They helped with my anxiety."

"This is two milligrams. You should be asleep within 15 minutes."

"The door?"

"The kitchen door is now the front door."

"Earlier today, you mentioned establishing an exercise routine for me. Does your offer still stand?"

"I suppose."

"Good. I'd like to start tomorrow, if that suits you."

"You should take it easy for a few days."

"That's the last thing I need. I need to do something to take my mind off all this. I think it would be a good distraction."

"It's nearly 3 in the morning. With that pill in you, you will sleep half the day away. Take tomorrow to rest, and we will implement your routine on Monday."

"All right."

As he rose from the bed, she called out to him.

"Thank you for the pill."

Bane simply nodded.

"And for saving my life…again."

He said nothing as he walked out of her room. After extinguishing the fire and turning off all the lights, he doubled back to Kate's room to check on her. He knew she was sound asleep; if she weren't, she would have heard his approach and sat at attention as she always did. He gazed upon her face which was illuminated by the moonlight. He attempted to banish the unwanted thoughts that were creeping their way into his mind, but he failed.

She was a beautiful woman, a fact that made their cohabitation all the more convoluted. He had abandoned all feelings of desire a long time ago; he was above such trivial matters. But when he held her for those brief moments, remnants of those long-deserted urges came rushing back to him like the waters of a raging flood. The warmth of her skin against his and the silkiness of her hair against his hand; he had never experienced anything quite like it.

He had lovers before, of course, but none of them were anything like her. He had always felt like a novelty to the women he had bedded in the past. He surmised that they had coupled with him solely out of curiosity. The mask struck fear in most, but seemed to excite a small percentage of women he encountered for reasons he neither knew nor cared. Perhaps they had wanted to experience coitus with someone who was starkly different from everyone else; in essence, someone they viewed as a freak. He had never experienced a romantic relationship with a woman. Once he had fulfilled his carnal desires with various willing women, he never sought any of them out a second time. He used them, a fact from which he derived neither pride nor pleasure.

As he continued studying Kate lying in repose, he realized just how attracted to her he actually was. He had tried in vain to deny it since the very first day he laid eyes on her, but he was fighting a losing battle. He could never divulge his attraction to her, for he knew she could never view him in a similar manner, no matter how desperate for affection she might grow. He also knew that if she somehow picked up on his little secret, the discovery would only serve to make her even more uncomfortable than she already was. He quietly closed her door and retreated to the sanctuary of his room. As he waited for slumber to relieve him of reality, his mind was filled thoughts of what was unattainable. He pondered what immense pleasures her exquisite body could grant him. Though they were separated only by a distance of a few yards, she could have been a thousand miles away, for the result would have been the same. He knew he was in for hell come Monday.

**Author's Note: Whoa, Nelly, that was a long chapter! What a day our protagonists have had! I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Though I'd rather not delve into my personal life, I'll just say I am in the midst of several stressful situations at this time, and they do tend to curb both my time and desire to write. This chapter was, without a doubt, the most difficult thus far. I wanted so badly to have it up last week, but I didn't want to rush things as I sometimes tend to do. I wanted everything about this chapter to be as perfect as it possibly could, which is why I took my time and laboriously revised it until I deemed it worthy of all of you faithful readers. I'm sure when I look back at it, I'll find some aspects I think could have been better, as I always do, but I'm hoping there aren't too many. If I come across something that I feel is unnecessary or hinders the story, I will go back and revise, so keep an eye out. If something seems off to any of you guys, just let me know, and I'll do my best to fix it.**

**As you've probably noticed by now, the story is slowly, but surely, developing into the romance I first advertised. As of right now, I don't know how many chapters it will have, though I'm thinking somewhere between 25 and 30, maybe more. I have so many ideas swimming around in my head; I can only hope that I am able to keep this story fresh and interesting for its remainder. With so many things out of my control, it's so wonderful to be able to come here and escape from reality for a little while. If you have the time, please leave me your thoughts whether they be positive or negative. And as always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting :)**


	20. Chapter 19

"_You've honestly never smoked weed before?" Jane asked._

_"Nope," Kate answered truthfully._

_"How is that even possible?" Kyle interrupted. "Every single disaffected youth who has ever walked this earth in modern and even pre-modern times has gotten blazed at least once," Kyle claimed. "You were disaffected, weren't you Kate?"_

_"Of course I was; I practically grew up in foster care. I just never had the opportunity."_

_"All the more reason to indulge in the finer pleasures of life. You'd might as well experience all you can, considering we're all gonna be reduced to dust soon," he said as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that filled the room with the pleasurable_

_"Kyle!" Jane reprimanded her beau as he passed the joint to her. "Don't be so morbid."_

_"You heard our fearless leader: 'We do not negotiate with terrorists,' blah, blah, blah," Kyle repeated the president's words in a mocking fashion. "We're all fucked."_

_"We're trying to have a good time here," Jane reminded him. "How can we do that if you keep talking that way?"_

_"Sorry," Kyle apologized as his held his hands in the air to indicate his submission._

_"Come on Katie, it's your turn," Jane said and passed the joint to Kate. "It'll make you feel better," she affirmed._

_"I suddenly feel like I'm in an after school special," joked Kate._

_"Come on Kate, succumb to the peer pressure," urged Kyle._

_Kate hit the joint a little too hard and let out a loud, hacking cough as a result._

_"Whoa, easy there," said Kyle. "You have virgin lungs, you've gotta take it slow at first."_

_Kate nodded and passed it back to Kyle._

_"How much do you have to smoke before it takes effect?" asked Kate._

_"Well, given the fact that you've never had it before, a couple of hits or so should do you just fine," replied Kyle. "Now if you two really wanna feel good, I suggest my lady love here go dig up a few Xannies."_

_"One vice at a time, if you don't mind. Those things aren't exactly easy to come by right now."_

_"What's your supply these days?" Kyle asked._

_"It's running low, if you must know. Besides, I'm saving them for Katie."_

_Kyle looked at Kate and then back to Jane. Jane looked at Kate with an apologetic look on her face for her thoughtless admission._

_"Why's that?"_

_"It's all right Jane, really. I'm fine," Kate assured her._

_"What the hell is going on here?" Kyle asked impatiently._

_"Nothing," Jane asserted._

_"Jane's been generous enough to give me some of her pills," Kate explained. "I get a little nervous every now and then."_

_"We __**all** get a little nervous every now and then, which I think's rather understandable, considering the fact that the entire fucking city is gonna blow up in a few months."_

_"Don't be a jerk, Kyle," Jane said as she shot him a harsh look. "They help her do the job, all right, so back off."_

_"What, you can't spare two or three just this once?"_

_"I told you, I'm saving them! We have pot, that's enough."_

_"Well, looks like I have no say in the matter. Thank you, Jane, for emasculating me in front of your nervous little friend here," scorned Kyle._

_"If you're gonna be an asshole about it, just go to bed. We have enough to deal with."_

_"Oh, you do, do you? I suppose you think my life is some fucking walk in the park, is that it?"_

_"Just drop it, Kyle. You're drunk."_

_"Yeah, and I'm high too, but not as high as I'd like to be. Now where are those fucking pills?" Kyle angrily inquired as he made his way to Jane's bedroom._

_"This is all my fault," declared Kate. "I should probably go."_

_"No, it isn't. And no, you shouldn't. It's my fault. I shouldn't have opened my big mouth. I'm sorry, Katie."_

_"Don't apologize to me; it's your room he's ransacking."_

_"Look, you stay here while I go calm him down."_

_"Jane, maybe that's not such a good idea. He's not in the best of moods right now."_

_"He's all talk. He's not a violent person."_

_"How do you really know that? You've only known him for a couple of months. They don't put nice guys in Blackgate."_

_"He's a thief, not a psycho. Trust me, it'll be fine," said Jane in an attempt to assuage her friend's fears._

_Kate reluctantly retained her seat on the couch as Jane went into the bedroom. A few minutes later, their bickering ceased, and both of them returned to the living room._

_"Is everything okay?" Kate asked._

_"Everything's fine," said Jane._

_"Sorry for being an ass," Kyle said as he sat down. "Can you ladies find it in your hearts to forgive me?"_

_"What do you say, Katie? Should we forgive him?"_

_"It's water under the bridge."_

_"We forgive you, baby."_

_"Thank you. We're here to have a good time, so let's have one," Kyle proclaimed as he fired up another joint._

_The remainder of that early morning went off without a hitch as the trio recalled happier times while indulging in the pleasures of cannabis. Jane and Kyle did most of the reminiscing, as Kate's fond memories were uncommonly few and far between._

Bane's prediction was accurate; Kate did not wake until past noon the following day. With the memory of her friends still fresh in her mind, she hoped they had found one another and were together back in Gotham while she, the missing piece of their triumvirate, sought comfort in a stranger's bed in a stranger's cabin halfway around the world with the most infamous subversive the world had ever seen.

For a moment upon regaining consciousness, she wondered if perhaps the events of the previous night had been a nightmare. The notion was quickly extinguished as she was never able to recall any dream so lucidly. She knew she should probably get up, but she lacked the ambition to do so. Still groggy from the high dose of Xanax she had ingested early that morning courtesy of Bane, she could not bring herself to peel her weary body away from the serenity that the warm, cozy mattress provided. Instead, she decided she would remain sedentary that day.

By the time Kate was finally stirring, Bane had completed his morning exercises and had breakfast. Never one to sleep in, he awoke shortly after dawn that morning with a newfound objective: to banish any and all untoward thoughts regarding his comely housemate that were so wholly uncharacteristic of him.

He attributed his annoying, primordial desire to the fact that she was the only person around. It was human nature to gravitate towards others in the same environment. He was a man, she was a woman, and they were confined in a small space together. It was perfectly natural, he rationalized, to feel a slight measure of physical attraction to someone like her. In simplest terms, he had an itch, and she was the only one capable of scratching it at that particular time.

The only woman Bane had ever been close to during his maturity was Talia, but their relationship was not a romantic one; his love for her was strictly platonic, comparable to the love a father would feel for his daughter. He was thoroughly devoted to her in this way, first in her childhood and later in her adulthood. He was her savior and protector, never her lover.

Kate bore no resemblance to his dearly departed Talia, in neither a physical nor characteristic sense. Talia was diminutive and spoke with an exotic accent; Kate was somewhat tall for a woman and had a bland, unmistakable American inflection. Talia's hair was shoulder-length, a naturally voluminous, beautiful shade of chestnut; Kate's mane extended down nearly halfway down her back, was virtually straight, and nearly black. Talia was strong and forceful, dominant even, whereas Kate was nervous and soft-spoken for the most part. Talia had received a well-rounded, Ivy League education; Kate had only finished high school. And then there was the most obvious difference between the two: Talia was dead; Kate was alive. He would have given anything in the world to be endowed with the power to switch their statuses.

It seemed to him that the best course of action would be to simply avoid her as much as possible. That strategy would mean canceling their exercise plans, which he would do as soon as she came to. She only had a few movies left to watch; when she finished all of them, she was likely to spend the majority of time in her room. He realized his last thought may have been wishful thinking, as she seemed to grow more vociferous with each passing day. She wasn't the most talkative person he had known, but she definitely did not share his own laconic nature.

He tersely contemplated waking her, but decided he was not in a hurry for interaction. By 12:30, he still had not heard a peep from her room, so he used the opportunity to call Barsad. It had been nearly a week since they had last spoken, and Bane knew his most trusted comrade was chomping at the bit for a call.**  
**_  
_"It's about time!" Barsad announced as if he had forgotten who he was talking to. Bane disregarded his lieutenant's remark, as it was just another sign of his dedication.

"I would apologize, but you know I don't do that."

"An opportunity has presented itself."

"What sort of opportunity?"

"We could have a mole in the FBI, but before you lambast me into next week, he doesn't know who we are."

"What is his position?"

"He's an FBI consultant; not a member, just an independent contractor. But he has full security clearance. He could serve as our eyes and ears of the investigation."

"Who is he? I want to know everything about him."

"That's the only catch. I don't know who he is, nor does he know who we are. That was part of the deal. He wouldn't agree otherwise."

"And how much is this potential mole requesting in exchange for his services?"

"A million."

"He doesn't work cheap, does he? How did you come to know of this man?"

"I got a tip from a very reliable source back in the states. I made contact with the subject on an untraceable cell phone, and I used a voice distortion device."

"Did you trace the call?"

"I tried, but he must've had the same idea. I was unable to determine the number or location."

"What did you say to him, Barsad?"

"I asked him if he was connected to the FBI; he said he was. I then asked him if he had a security clearance; he said he did. Then he told me his price for information. That was the entire conversation."

"What is your opinion?"

"I don't have one yet. I wanted to run it by you first."

"You did not run it by me first, you just said you made contact yourself!"

"The tip I received was…"

"I don't like it. If we don't know who he is, we cannot monitor his actions. We won't ever know what he's doing. It could be a setup. What sort of information did you divulge to him?"

"Not a thing."

"You must have told him something."

"He didn't ask any questions. It sounds like he's done this sort of thing before. He's putting his neck out too. He has just as much to lose as we do."

"You miserable little fool! That is, without a doubt, the most asinine statement I have ever had the displeasure of hearing! How dare you engage in such a reckless act without consulting me?!" Bane bellowed.

"You told me to run things, so that's what I'm doing. And since I couldn't call you because you refuse to give me your number, I made a judgment call. I never would have acted if I'd thought for one second it would put us at risk."

"Speaking of judgment, I am having serious reservations about yours as of late. If it weren't for your impetuous decision, I would not be saddled with your little friend right now," Bane criticized.

"How is she?"

"Do not try to change the subject at hand. Listen to me, as I'm only going to say this once. You are never to contact that man again, nor anyone else without my express permission. If you have a lead, you sit on it until you hear from me, is that clear?"

"Yes."

"We're talking about the FBI, not some disorganized police department. The last thing we need is a double-agent selling us out."

"I'm sorry."

"Henceforth you are only to deal with members of our organization; no new contacts whatsoever. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to doubt my faith in you, brother. Keep that in mind," Bane dourly stated before ending the call.

Enraged by Barsad's latest blunder, Bane relentlessly paced from one wall to another, an innocuous habit he had developed during his days in the pit that he was not able to break in times of duress. Back and forth he went, again and again; his anger approached its apex as he mulled over the events that had transpired since the League's exodus from Gotham.

Since then, things had gone from bad to worse; he had been faced with one calamity after another: the failure to fulfill their mission, sufferance of high casualty and apprehension rates, unnecessary burdens, gross miscalculations made by his right hand man, the issuance of a multi-million dollar reward for his capture, unbecoming retreat, marauding intruders, sexual frustration, and of course, the most devastating blow: the loss of the only light in his dark world, his very reason for living.

In an instant, Bane was overcome with every negative emotion imaginable. He clenched his right fist and perforated the one of the walls with a powerful right hook. His fury was insatiable; he wanted to pummel the wall and again until he was spent, but knew if he yielded to his desire, the foundation would be compromised, and the cabin would eventually collapse upon them. Realizing that regaining control of his rage was imperative, he backed away from the wall and went outside for some fresh air.

Back in her room, Kate had dozed off again, but the loud noise that came from Bane's part of the cabin immediately roused her. She flew out of bed and cracked her door just a tad in order to determine the cause of the disturbance. Her heart began to beat rapidly as it always did when her anxiety took hold. Much too afraid to leave her room, she gently closed the door and sat on the floor with her back against the door. If she had been a religious person, that probably would have been a good time to pray, for she felt she could not endure one more disastrous occurrence.

Not far from the cabin, Bane leaned against a massive tree. In the extreme urgency to avert the authorities, he did not have the time to properly mourn Talia's death. When he finally awoke from his coma back in Tunisia, he first thought he was still in Gotham, captured by the so-called dispensers of justice. It wasn't until he saw Barsad that he knew they must have escaped.

_"Boss? Nod if you can hear me," said Barsad as he stood over his commander who was a shell of his former self. _

_Barsad was relieved when Bane gave him a slight nod. His face was obscured, not by his trademark facial covering, but an oxygen mask. Bane attempted to remove it as soon as he discovered its presence. The attending nurse attempted to intercede, but was dissuaded by a mere glance from her patient, a look that let her know she should keep her distance._

_"You can go now," Barsad said to the nurse._

_Once she was gone, Bane removed the oxygen mask at once._

_"What happened?" he asked in his unaltered voice, which was distinctly English._

_"You're alive. That's all that matters right now."_

_"What happened?" he asked again._

_"Wayne intercepted the bomb, flew it out to the sea."_

_"And?"_

_"It exploded. He's surely dead, but Gotham still stands."_

_"How many of our brothers made it out?"_

_"Including us, 32."_

_"Talia? Where is Talia?" Bane asked in a gasp._

_Barsad looked down, not wanting to serve as the bearer of the worst news possible to Bane._

_"She didn't make it."_

_"What did you say?"_

_"She's gone."_

_"How?"_

_"She was trying to detonate the core. Wayne and that bitch Selina Kyle derailed the armored truck she was in."_

_Bane's breathing became labored, and Barsad attempted to reapply his oxygen mask._

_"Get out," Bane ordered._

_Never one to have to be told twice, Barsad left the room._

_Barsad's words cut him like a knife. If he had been capable of shedding tears, he surely would have._

The day he awoke from his coma served as the second worst day of his life, the first being the day his mother died. He was still reeling from Talia's death, and that day his pain finally caught up with him. He suddenly turned around and began a merciless assault on the tree on which he formerly rested against. He wailed away at the bark like a madman, unconcerned with the damage he was causing to his hands.

While Bane took out the remainder of his aggression on the tree, Kate found the courage to leave her room in an effort to determine the cause of the mysterious sound. She went from the hall to the living room to Bane's door. She knocked on his door and waited. When she received no response, she knocked louder. More silence. She daringly placed her hand on the knob and turned it ever so slowly. Once inside, she treaded carefully as she canvassed his office. When she didn't find him there, she tapped on his bedroom door. The response she was waiting for finally came, but from the opposite direction.

"What are you doing in here?" Bane asked. "I told you this area is off limits."

"I'm sorry. I heard a noise. What was it?"

"The wall connected rather harshly with my fist. Can you imagine such a thing?"

Kate looked at him and let out the most genuine laugh she had experienced since before the occupation.

"The notion isn't that far-fetched," she said as her laughter continued. "I would inquire about the inspiration for that act, but it's not like you'd tell me anyway," she softly observed.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been punched in the face numerous times," she sighed.

"You've suffered some bruising to your left eye. You also have some mild facial swelling and discoloration."

"Great," she lamented.

"A cold compress will soothe the pain and decrease the inflammation."

"I guess I should get to work then."

"I have a cold pack in the next room. Wait in the living room."

Bane retrieved the needed item from his room and went into the living room to find Kate on the couch.

"Do not leave it on for more than 30 minutes at a time."

"Thanks," replied Kate as she reached for the ice pack. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to hold off on the exercising. I still want to, just not right now. Give my face some time to heal."

Just as she finished her last sentence, she noticed the blood on his hands.

"Why are both of your hands bleeding? I only heard one punch."

"I took the remainder of my aggression on an unfortunate tree."

"They look pretty bad."

"I've had worse."

"You should wrap them."

"Why didn't you run?" he posed as he assayed his wounds.

"What?"

"You heard me. I was certain you were going to flee when the minute I left you alone in that car."

"I gave you my word."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I'd rather take my chances with you than risking running into someone even worse."

A brief interlude of silence followed Kate's poor choice of words.

"That came out wrong."

"I understood what you meant."

"What did I mean?"

"You know I will not perpetrate that specific insidious crime."

"Something like that."

"I cannot say your decision displeases me."

"Why am I here? I know there must be a reason. I know you didn't bring me here for your amusement…did you?"

"Is your life here really so horrible? You are no longer an indentured servant to the rich and powerful. Your days are carefree, your life unburdened from everyday pressures. All you do is lounge around and watch movies. You have a warm bed and food to eat, free of charge, I might add. Many would give just about anything to be in your position."

"That may be true, but it doesn't negate the fact that I'm a prisoner."

"You call this a prison, do you?" he laughed. "You know nothing of prison. Compared to prison, this place is paradise."

"So I take it you've spent time in prison?"

"Don't press, Miss Lowry."

"I can't help it when you bait me like that!"

"I could reinstate the code of silence, if you wish."

"No. God, no."

"In order to maintain a harmonious coexistence, I may offer you slivers of information from time to time, but don't hold your breath on writing my biography."

"Kate."

"What?"

"You can call me 'Kate.' I think we've passed the point of formality here. Besides, no one ever called me that…well, except for my insufferable ex-boss, and I've no desire to be reminded of him."

"Is 'Kate' your preferred name?"

"I suppose. My mom always called me 'Kate,' dad too. Jane called me 'Katie,' but that always made me feel like a five-year-old."

"What about your proper name?"

"Katharine? No one's ever called me that."

"Perhaps it's time someone did, unless it disagrees with you."

"I don't suppose it does."

"Very well then; I shall call you 'Katharine' from now on."

"And what should I call you?"

"There is no need to refer to me. You never have before."

"That's because what you call yourself is not a name. It's a moniker, and an unpleasant one at that. It doesn't agree with me, so I choose not to use it."

"To each his own."

"Or 'her' own."

"I stand corrected."

"Well, we do have one thing in common right now."

"Which would that be?"

"Look at us; we're both messes."

"Speaking of which, I probably should bind up my wounds. Remember, 30 minutes at a time."

"I've never been beaten up before. How long do you think it will be before I look like a human being again?"

"Your healing will be complete within a week, maybe two."

"You wouldn't happen to have an extra one of those, would you?" she asked as she gesticulated to his mask.

"I'm afraid my veneer is one-of-a-kind."

"It wouldn't do much good for the eye anyway."

"If you would excuse me, Katharine, I'm beginning to drip," he reminded her.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I could…assist, if you'd like."

"There is no need," he said as he left the living room.

After Bane took his leave, Kate journeyed into the bathroom to find out just how bad she looked. The flesh surrounding her left eye was puffy and displayed a wretched combination of blue and green. Her left cheek was also bruised and swollen. Due to the fact that the intruder's strikes had not caused her much pain as he inflicted them, she was somewhat astonished at the degree of the bruising. Nonetheless, she considered herself lucky, as her injuries could have been far worse had it not been for Bane's prompt intervention.

_**Have I gone completely crazy? If it weren't for him, this never would have happened. If it weren't for him, I would not even be here. If it weren't for him, I'd still be back in Gotham…leading the same meaningless existence.**_

The more time Kate spent with Bane in seclusion, the more confused and conflicted she became. He was both her savior and her jailer; a blessing and a curse at the same time. On the one hand, he had saved her life—not once, but twice. On the other, he was a vicious, seemingly remorseless mass murderer. In addition to those damnable attributes, he was holding her against her will, keeping her in the dark about her future, which, in her opinion, was the equivalent of emotional torture. She hated him, of course, but she noticed that her contempt seemed to lessen as time went on. It was hard to hate him when he exercised civility, and even kindness, more often than not. As much as Kate hated to admit it, she found him intriguing. Truth be told, she wanted to learn as much as she could about him. At the top of her list, understandably, was the motivation behind his nefarious plot to eviscerate Gotham.

**Author's Note: So I've noticed several other stories on here that either display or mention the likenesses of their original characters. For example, Paradisical815's OC Katty is a fictional rendering of Jennifer Lawrence, and PoisonousAngel uses her own image for Camille. This got me asking the question: What do my original characters look like?**

**Well, the first one who came to me was Jane while I was watching a show from a few years back called Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. As soon as I saw the character Riley in that show, I thought, "That's Jane." Her appearance was almost exactly how I envisioned Jane's. The actress is Leven Rambin; many of you may recognize her as Glimmer in The Hunger Games.**

**My protagonist, Kate, presented a more difficult challenge. I gave it a lot of thought, but my search finally ended when I saw an actress named Emmy Rossum, who you may know from Showtime's Shameless and the 2004 version of Phantom of the Opera. She's not only gorgeous, but she possesses a sort of innocent look that conveys a certain degree of vulnerability that I thought fit Kate to a tee. If you have the time, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on this subject. Do you think the appearances of the aforementioned actresses suit my characters? Why or why not?**

**I also have two male OCs, Will and Kyle, but I have no definitive mental pictures of them as of right now. I believe I've described Kyle minimally, but I don't think I've provided a physical description of Will yet. I think all I've said about him is that he is in his mid-to-late 30s. If anyone has any suggestions for them, feel free to share them with me in a review or PM.**

**And of course, there's Bane, but he's not mine, and we all know he's the delectable Tom Hardy. I don't know about any of you, but I was very curious to see what his face looked like beneath that mask. In this story, he's not some hideous monster without a nose or jaw under there, as that would ruin the fantasy; my version of Bane has a few scars on and surrounding the lips and nose. Just as in the film, he also has the vertical scar which extends the length of his back, in addition to some severe scar tissue on his chest due to the cannon blast. In my mind, the scars don't detract from his appearance; they serve to make him a more relatable, sympathetic character.**

**Wow, I really did ramble, didn't I? I'll wrap it up now, but before I do, I'd like to once again extend my sincerest thanks to all who read, follow, favorite, and review :)**


	21. Chapter 20

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 25, twelve days after liberation (approximately two months prior to Chapter 19)**

"What's going on, Jane?" Will asked.

"She's gone, and it's all my fault. I never should have gone there that day. I'm such a fuck-up," Jane wailed.

"Try to calm down. By 'gone,' what exactly do you mean?"

"She was kidnapped."

"How do you know this?"

Kyle just told me. He's back in Blackgate. He called one night last week and asked me to visit him."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm just getting on the ferry."

"All right. When you get back to the dock, sit tight. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

"Okay."

Jane attempted to exercise patience as she waited for Will to arrive, but her effort was to no avail. Her mind was overcome with disturbing visions of what could have happened to her friend, of what could be happening to her at that very second. Kyle's bombshell didn't make much sense to her; actually, it didn't make any sense at all. Who would want to kidnap Kate of all people? From what she deduced, her friend did not have any present contacts, save herself and Kyle, and Kate wasn't wealthy in any sense of the word, therefore the crime could not have been motivated by ransom. Her mind continued to wander until she saw Will out of the corner of her eye at the dock.

"Thanks for coming," Jane said as Will approached her at the bench she was perched on.

"Come on, I'll take you home. We can talk things over on the way."

Once they were in the car, Will got down to business.

"I need to know everything he told you."

"He said he saw some guy take her to a van after the standoff ended."

"Was he able to describe the perpetrator?"

"I didn't get that far. I wanted to tell you first."

"All right. I'll head over there tomorrow to question him."

"He may not be very receptive."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, he hates cops and he's just been dumped."

"If he doesn't cooperate, I'll charge him with obstruction. So unless he's developed an unexpected fondness for prison life, he better offer full disclosure of what he knows, or he'll be spending even more time in Blackgate."

"He mentioned something about a class action lawsuit against the city. You heard anything about that?"

"Yeah, some gasbag lawyer is crying foul over the Dent Act. He's calling for the release of every inmate who was prosecuted subsequent to its passage. He's also demanding that Gordon be brought to trial."

"I take it you don't agree?"

"Of course I don't agree. One man's lapse in judgment doesn't change the fact that those inmates are there because of their own deeds. They're convicted criminals, and they belong behind bars."

"Since you're such an advocate of law and order, don't you think Gordon should be held accountable for his crimes just like everyone else?"

"He has been held accountable; his career is over, his name's been permanently tarnished. He'll never work in law enforcement again. For a man who dedicated his entire adult life to public service, I think that's punishment enough."

"Do you know him?"

"I know him well."

"Or at least you thought you did."

"What he did was wrong, okay; I don't think anyone could disagree with that. But that doesn't make him a bad person."

"Did you know the truth about Dent before Bane let the cat out of the bag?"

"No. I was just as shocked as everyone else, probably even more so."

"Your precious ex-commissioner slandered an innocent man; a man who gave his life for this city, in case you've forgotten."

"Of course I haven't. Gotham lost two heroes because of Bane."

"I'd say more like one."

"I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"Guess so."

After pulling up in front of Jane's apartment building, Will shifted the clutch of his Ford Focus into the park position and killed the ignition.

"This is all my fault," Jane reiterated.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you. Going to City Hall that day wasn't' the best decision, but you made it with the purest of intentions. You didn't mean for any of this to happen. Your goal wasn't malicious, and neither was James Gordon's."

"Yeah, well you know what they say about the road to hell."

"I'll head out to Blackgate first thing in the morning. I'll call you when I'm through."

"Can you do me a huge favor? I know you've done so much already, but I told Kyle I'd deposit some money into his account at the prison. I figured since you're gonna be there anyway that maybe you could take care of it for me."

"Sure."

"The money's upstairs. I'll just be a minute," Jane said before exiting the car.

Jane was back in his car in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

"Here," she said as she handed him a large wad of cash.

"I sincerely hope this money was obtained legally."

"Of course it was. Thanks for all you're doing, Will. I really mean that."

"Just doing what they pay me for. Well, aside from serving as your personal courier."

"Bullshit. You're going above and beyond what anyone would expect. There aren't many cops who would make a missing stripper their top priority."

"I suppose you have a point, but I can't take too much credit for that. I'm able to devote more time to the job than most of my colleagues due to my lack of a personal life."

"Why is that? Never found the right woman?"

"I thought I had, but I was wrong, as it turned out."

"Were you married?"

"Once upon a time."

"Any kids?"

"Two; Alex and Emma. Alex is eight, Emma's six."

"Your kids are your personal life, dummy. You should spend as much time with them as you can."

"That would be ideal, but they live in Pittsburgh with their mother and stepfather. I only get one weekend a month."

"Tough break."

"Yeah. Jesus, I shouldn't be telling you all this."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry or anything. Do you wanna come up for a few minutes?"

"What for?"

"I don't know. Maybe a drink or something?"

"That would be highly inappropriate."

"Why?"

"It would be a profane violation of protocol."

"It's Saturday. Aren't you officially off duty today?"

"I have work I need to catch up on."

"When's the last time you took some time just for yourself?"

"I don't remember."

"Just one drink."

"It's really not a good idea."

"All right," Jane submitted.

"Good night, Jane."

"Night."

Will pulled away from Jane's and started his journey home. As he did so, his thoughts turned to the subject of his primary investigation. He found himself hoping that it was merely a case of mistaken identity, but knew in all likelihood that it was not. After all, Kyle had spent enough time around Kate to be able to correctly identify her.

Just as he began the process of trying to absorb the disturbing development, his phone rang. He cringed at the sight of the number on the display screen, which belonged to his former wife. There were only two reasons she would be calling him: to complain or to deliver bad news.

"Jess?"

"Hi Will."

"Are the kids okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine. Emma's ballet troupe is having their first live show tonight. She's having a minor case of pre-performance jitters. I thought she could use a little encouragement from her dad."

"Put her on the phone."

"Daddy?" said a soft, angelic voice.

"How's my little sugarplum?"

"Okay."

"Just okay, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Mom tells me you're a little nervous about tonight."

"I'm scared."

"It's okay, sweetheart. You know what? Everyone feels that way when they do something for the first time."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. But you don't have anything to worry about because you're gonna be just wonderful."

"But what if I mess up? What if I fall down?"

"If you fall down, you just get right back up again and keep on dancing."

"I wish you were here, Daddy."

Upon hearing his daughter's declaration, he felt as if his heart literally just shattered into a million pieces. He closed his eyes tightly and spoke the only words he could.

"I wish I was too, baby. But listen, we'll be together again next weekend, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now you go out there and show those grown-ups what dancing's all about, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, sugarplum. Can you put mommy back on the phone for me?"

"I'm here," Jessica said.

"So was this Emma's idea or yours?"

"What?"

"Come on, Jess. Is ballet something she enjoys or something you put her up to?"

"I would never force Emma to do anything she didn't want to. What kind of mother do you think I am?"

"Well, why am I just now hearing about this? You didn't mention anything about ballet when I was there."

"One of her friends told her she was taking ballet, and Emma expressed an interest. At first I thought it might pass, but she asked me to enroll her in the class, so I did. Satisfied?"

"She seems really scared. Maybe she should sit this one out."

"Her apprehension is perfectly natural, you said so yourself. You can't coddle her for the rest of her life, Will."

"This isn't about coddling, it's about what's best for Emma."

"What's best for Emma is to teach her that facing her fears is preferable to running away from them."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I understand where you're coming from. So how are things there?"

"I've been transferred to Missing Persons."

"Why's that?"

"The new commissioner saw fit to overhaul the department. Missing Persons was already understaffed, and as a result of the fallout of the occupation, overburdened as well."

"How's that going?"

"Not exceptionally well at the moment."

"You'll get through it; you always do. What's the new commissioner like?"

"I don't know, I haven't met him."

"Have you talked to Jim since you've been back?"

"No. Hey, let me say 'hi' to Alex."

"We've gotta go, the show starts in an hour, and we have to be there early."

"Okay. Tell him I love him."

"I will."

"See you next weekend."

"Yeah," Jessica said before hanging up.

By the time the call ended, Will was home. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he regretted not taking Jane up on her offer of a drink; it was just what he needed at the time.

**Location: Blackgate Prison, Gotham City  
Date: February 26, thirteen days after liberation**

Will arrived at the prison at nine sharp. He was led to a small room that served as the prison's unofficial interrogation room. He waited for about ten minutes before a burly corrections officer escorted Kyle, who was shackled at both the hands and feet, into the room. The guard removed the handcuffs, but left the leg manacles on.

"Kyle Weaver?" Will asked as the officer vacated the room.

"Who are you?"

"Detective Garris, Gotham Police Department," Garris answered as he produced his badge.

"The perfect way to start my day," Kyle grunted. "What do you want?"

"I've been told that you have information about an alleged abduction."

"Jane sent you?"

"No one sent me, this is my job. Have a seat, Mr. Weaver."

"Is this an official interrogation? Because if it is, I'm not saying a word without my attorney present."

"Who might that be?"

"Bernard M. Levinson, Esquire," Kyle proclaimed cockily.

"Levinson? That shyster who's trying to file a class action lawsuit against the city with no legal grounds for doing so?"

"Uh, no. The man I'm talking about is the only one with enough balls to stand up against the evil empire that is also known as the City of Gotham."

"My mistake. They must look alike or something."

Kyle's exhibited a sardonic smirk at the detective's wry remark.

"Relax. This particular line of question does not pertain to you, therefore your attorney's services will not be required. It all works out for the best, I think. This way, you and I can have a nice chat, and Mr. Levinson will be free to spend his morning smearing upstanding public servants."

"Ha!" Kyle sneered. "I see you've been drinking Papa Gordon's Kool-Aid like a good little boy."

"As much as I'd love to spend my morning trading insults with you, I'm afraid I have a more important matter to discuss."

"Kate Lowry?"

The detective nodded.

"I told Jane everything I know about that."

"You may have left out a few details; unintentionally, of course."

"Nope."

"Miss Mitchell informed me that your conversation ended rather abruptly, the reason for that being that she wanted to immediately inform me of your disconcerting revelation."

"It wouldn't have made any difference if she'd stayed. I don't know anything else."

"You know, most eyewitnesses to a crime say the same thing at first, but even they are surprised at how much they're able to recall once they've been asked the right questions," Will attested as he retrieved his voice recorder from his coat pocket.

"I told you man, if this is on the record, I want Levinson here. I know my rights."

"It's not for the record. This is strictly for my own personal use to assist in the investigation."

"Do you take me for a complete idiot?! I'm done with this," Kyle blasted as he got up from his seat.

Kyle angrily shoved his chair towards the table and made his way to the door of the interrogation room. When he did not see a guard outside, he began beating on the door.

"Aw, fuck me! This is bullshit! This is a violation of my civil rights!" Kyle shouted.

Will rose from his chair and closed the distance between himself and Kyle.

"Listen to me, you little punk!" Will demanded as he got as close as he could to his witness. "We both know Levinson's not going to pry his fat ass away from the cameras in a minute's notice to come all the way out here to babysit you!"

"Back the fuck off!" Kyle roared.

Will did as he said and stepped back a few steps.

"A person's life is at stake here, a friend's life! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Kate's a friend of my now ex-girlfriend. She's nothing to me."

"I took some time last night to review your records. You're no career criminal, which is a fact that distinguishes you from your brethren in this facility. You were a first-time offender, a kid who made a stupid mistake. According to your prison file, you were an exemplary inmate before Blackgate fell."

"You can butter me up all day. I told you, I don't know anything else."

"I'm not here to railroad you, all right? I don't give a flying fuck what you did during the occupation. I just want to find Kate Lowry and bring her home safe."

"Yeah, well good luck with that."

She's been missing for nearly two weeks. Every minute that goes by is a squandered opportunity. You are the only lead I have on this. You're the only one who can help me. From what I've gathered, you're not some piece of shit completely bereft of morality. You can either prove me right or wrong. What's it gonna be, Kyle?"

Kyle took a minute to contemplate his next words.

"All right, I'll answer your questions, but no tape recorder. And I'm not saying anything about my life during that time, so don't even bother."

"Fair enough," Will said as he put away his voice recorder in a show of compliance.

Kyle approached the table and sat down.

"Since you have an aversion to my recorder, do you mind if I take notes?"

"Knock yourself out. Nice guilt trip, by the way."

"Tell me exactly what you saw on Liberation Day in regards to Kate."

"I was at the back exit of City Hall that morning," Kyle sighed while pushing his dark, chin-length hair out of his face. "I saw a guy carry her to a black van. She was yelling and trying to get away. He threw her in the van, and it took off. That's all I saw."

"Can you describe the man who carried her?" Will asked as he pulled out a pen and note pad from his satchel.

"All I saw was his back. He was about average height, maybe six feet. Short brown hair."

"Do you know if the man was one of the terrorists?"

"I think so."

"Why do you think so?"

"The son of a bitch had an AK-47 strapped to his back. I wouldn't have just stood back otherwise."

"You would have intervened?"

"Yeah, I would have. I have morals, like you said."

"What about Bane? Did you see him at all that day?"

"Earlier, yeah."

"When?"

"Around eight, maybe a little after."

"Where was he when you saw him?"

"The front entrance."

"What was he doing at the front entrance?"

"He was watching the cops march towards them. One of his guys told the cops to stand down, but they just kept on coming. He told his men to open fire."

"What happened next?"

"All hell broke loose. The cops and Bane's men went to war in the streets."

"Did you see where Bane went when the combat ensued?"

"No, there were too many people."

"Are you absolutely sure that the woman you saw being abducted was Kate?"

"Yeah, it was definitely her."

"Did the man who took her also get into the van?"

"Yeah."

"Were you able to determine if there were any other occupants in the van besides Kate and her abductor?"

"There was a driver."

"Can you describe the driver?"

"The windows were tinted."

"Can you describe the van in more detail? Make, model, year, any identifying marks or features?"

"It was a Chevy…black, late model."

"Plate number?"

"I didn't catch it."

"Tell me what occurred after Kate was taken."

"I don't know, I got the hell out of there."

"Where did you go?"

"That's not part of our deal."

"I'm just trying to gain some perspective here. Nothing you say to me will ever be repeated or held against you, you have my word on that."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"As I said, I'm not here for you. I'm trying to find a missing woman, a woman whose life is in grave danger."

"I went to a friend's."

"Why didn't you go back to Jane's, if for nothing else, to let her know you were all right?"

"If the cops were onto me, I didn't want her to go down on account of me."

"You must really care for her."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Let's get back on point here. What can you tell me about Kate as a person?"

"Not much. I barely knew the girl. She was just a friend of my girlfriend's," Kyle reiterated.

"How much time did you spend with her?"

"We all hung out a few times; me, her, and Jane."

"What was your impression of her?"

"I don't know. She seemed pretty normal. She didn't say much, wasn't much of a talker."

"Was there anything about her that struck you as odd or unusual? Anything at all?"

"I thought it was kind of odd that she was a stripper at first."

"Why's that?"

"She just didn't seem like the type. She seemed so...I don't know...goody-goody. But then Jane told me the reason she started dancing was because she was out of money, and her landlord was gonna kick her out. I guess it made more sense then."

"Anything else?"

"She was nervous, but considering the circumstances during that particular time, it didn't seem weird to me."

"Did Kate ever mention anything about her personal life while in your presence?"

"I think she said she was in foster care when she was a kid."

"Did she ever mention a boyfriend or other connections?"

"Nope. Jane told me something about her that was pretty fucked up though."

"What was that?"

"Apparently she was almost raped on the way home from work one night. She quit stripping after that. Jane was totally freaked out by the whole thing, she quit too. But the weirdest thing was that…"

"Go on."

"Jane said that Kate told her that Bane stopped the guy. I suppose you already knew that though."

"Jane mentioned it. What was your initial reaction to that revelation?"

"I don't know. What was yours?"

"I was floored, to say the least. A man who attempted to extinguish the lives of millions comes to the aid of one random stranger; kind of oxymoronic, if you ask me. Why do you think he did it?"

"Even in a place like this, rapists are despised. They're the worst of the worst, the lowest forms of life. No man who can call himself a man would rape a woman, let alone stand by and watch it happen."

"Did you ever ponder the possibility that Kate knew Bane, and that's why he intervened on her behalf?"

"No way."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense! If Kate was with Bane, why the hell was she shaking her tits at the Garden and hanging out with me and Jane?"

"You have a point. It's not probable, but it is possible, isn't it?"

"Well, anything's possible. It's possible that I'll win the lottery tomorrow, but I wouldn't bet on it."

"Is there anything else you can add to what you've just told me regarding Kate?"

"That's all I know."

"I'm going to leave you my card," Will said as he procured his card from his wallet. "If you remember any other details, I don't care how small, I want you to call me immediately. I don't care if it's three in the morning. Just drop my name to the guards, and they'll allow it. Will you do this?"

"Yeah," Kyle said as he took the card and placed it in one of the pockets of his uniform.

"I want to thank you for your cooperation here today. You've done the right thing."

"They're trying to add an escape charge, you know? That could mean anywhere from an extra year all the way up to ten tacked onto my original sentence. Can you fucking believe that? Oh wait, I must've forgot who I was talking to. Of course you can believe it, you're probably all for it."

"Every case is different, and I am of the opinion that the law should hold that fact in awareness and handle each case accordingly."

"What about my case, Detective? Do you think it's fair that a first-time offender such as myself be locked away in this hellhole for another decade?"

"I possess neither the knowledge nor credentials to answer your question."

"Well, that's exactly what's going to happen unless Levinson takes the case all the way."

"Not necessarily. You were a model prisoner before all of this, you had no infractions on your record. I'm no expert, but I'd say you have a pretty good shot at coming close to your original release date."

"Before all this happened, I was two years into my sentence. I was rotting away in an 8 by 9, and for the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to be alone. It didn't matter that I was surrounded by over a thousand men; I was alone. My own mother wouldn't even visit me. When the gates opened that day, I was one of the first ones out. I couldn't believe it. I ran so far and so fast, I never looked back, not even once. I didn't care that it wasn't legal; all that mattered was that I was free again, that I wouldn't have to live by the whims of asshole guards anymore. Being a lawman as you are, I know you can't possibly relate to that. But if you'd been in my shoes that day, you would've done the exact same thing, and you wouldn't have thought twice about it."

"You're probably right."

"I didn't expect to be set free before my time was up, but I was. I didn't expect to meet someone like Jane when I got out, but I did. It was as if fate finally decided to smile on me for once in my miserable life. It was the happiest time of my life, as fucked up as that may sound to you. And the reason for this sudden onset of good fortune was some weirdo in a mask I never even knew existed. He was my hero, my liberator. I felt about him the same way you and the other so-called decent folks of Gotham felt about the Batman. He gave me my freedom, told me the truth, stuck it to those rich bastards who had it coming to them for so long. And then he tried to blow us all up. Talk about feeling totally fucked over."

"I can understand your disillusionment."

"Can you? Have you ever been completely betrayed by someone you believed in?"

"Perhaps not to such an extreme degree, but yes, I have experienced that on more than one occasion."

"You think you could put in a good word for me with the higher-ups?"

"Kyle, I…."

"Come on, man. I answered all your questions. Hell, I even bared my soul a little. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Of course it does, but I'm afraid my influence doesn't carry much weight."

"I was stupid to think any cop would ever lift a finger to help me."

"That's not an excuse, it's the truth."

"Of course it is," Kyle uttered cynically. "You got what you wanted out of me, and now you could care less what happens to me. I'm just another scumbag convict getting what he deserves, right?"

"And you thought my guilt trip was good. If the escape charge sticks, I'll write a letter to the judge on your behalf."

"Seriously?"

"You have my word."

"Thanks. I'm sorry for being an ass earlier."

"Happens to the best of us."

Will summoned the guard just as Kyle had done earlier; the only difference being that he actually showed up the second time. The officer affixed Kyle's handcuffs and began to usher him out of the room.

"One more thing, Kyle," Will called out.

"Yeah?"

"You managed to keep your nose clean in here for two years, that's no easy feat in a place like Blackgate. Whatever you were doing obviously works, so keep doing it."

"I'll do my best."

Before he left the prison, Will deposited the money Jane had given him into Kyle's account. Once he was on the ferry, he called Jane just as he had promised.

"What'd you find out?"

"Not much, sorry to say."

"How is he?"

"He's in prison."

"I didn't ask where he is, I asked how."

"He's fine, all things considered."

"Did he say anything about me?"

"Only in relation to Kate."

"Was he cooperative?"

"He was hesitant at first, but he came around. He told me all he knows, of that I'm sure. Listen, there is one thing I'd like to talk about, but I'd rather not do it over the phone."

"Is it something about Katie?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Do you want me to come to the station?"

"No, I've got a better idea."

"What?"

"You still up for that drink?"

"Sure."

"I've got to take care of some things at home. How does eight o'clock sound?"

"Sounds great. Where?"

"Same place you proposed last night, unless you're having second thoughts."

"Yeah…I mean no. You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't," Will laughed.

"No second thoughts here."

"Good. I'll see you at eight then."

"Okay, see you then."

**Author's Note: If any of you are suffering from dialogue overload right now, allow me to extend my sincerest apologies. Interrogation scenes demand it, so there you have my defense. I must admit, these Gotham chapters are much easier to write than Bane/Kate exclusives; I suppose it's because they're devoid of the romantic buildup I'm painstakingly trying to perfect. That said, I know some of you may think I got a little carried away with this one (i.e. Will's conversations with his ex-wife and daughter), but character development is extremely important to me. I want to imbue the reader with as much information as possible. I want you all to feel like you know these characters—like they're real people—and including their motivations and showing why they do the things they do is a critical tool in that endeavor. Although I cannot devote as much time and effort on my side characters as I do the protagonists, I want them to have distinct personalities rather than serve solely as filler material. I feel that delving into a character is a vital part of storytelling, and I hope the majority of you feel the same. But if not, that's all right too; to each his/her own.**

**I consider myself very lucky in regards to my very first story, as I've not received even one negative review until last week. Actually, I don't necessarily interpret it as entirely negative. This reviewer, who I thank for sharing her thoughts with me, said that the story is far too detailed for her liking. I cannot argue that detail is pretty important to me, but I never thought that I was providing an overabundance of details, and I still don't. I'm totally cognizant of the fact that I could be wrong, and I'm not attempting to insist that I'm not, but I think it's more a matter of opinion. After all, we're all different. Some people adore detailed writing, and some don't. In any event, I wish this reviewer would have been more specific in her assessment, but I will remember her words and take them into consideration, as I do all who review. Thank you all so much for all your support, it means the world to me :)**


	22. Final Update

I love to write; it's one of the very few things that makes me feel good. I like to come here to escape reality for a little while. What I do not come here for is to be insulted by mean-spirited people who hide behind anonymity, whose only purpose, it seems, is to cause hurt to others. Constructive criticism is both welcome and helpful, but rudeness is something I refuse to tolerate.

I've come across countless stories here which I would call lackluster at best. I've read stories riddled with spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors, but I've never once posted a negative comment because I know how it feels to feel so passionate about something. I'm not going to spend one more minute wasting my time on this story. Bottom line, it's no longer a rewarding endeavor. After receiving a very rude review that has all but killed my desire to write, I'm discontinuing this story. Instead of putting more time and effort into something that is utterly pointless, I've decided to focus my energy on more productive and rewarding activities. I won't delete it just yet, but I probably will eventually. If I've disappointed any of you, you have my sincerest apologies. It was fun while it lasted :)


	23. A Change of Heart

As bad as I felt last night when I read that nasty comment, that's how good I feel today thanks to my wonderful readers.

Due to the overwhelming support you all have given me, I've decided to continue the story. In retrospect, I don't know how I could have even for a minute considered retiring it solely on the basis of one negative review. I realize now that I acted in haste. I want to thank each and every one of you for your encouragement. Thank you for your faith in me and for convincing me not to let one bad apple get the best of me and kill my passion.

You guys are seriously amazing!

Hugs :)


	24. Chapter 21

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 26, thirteen days after liberation**

Will was beset with misgivings during his commute to Jane's apartment. By answering her social call, he found himself breaking yet another regulation, but it was a minor infraction compared to some of his recent breaches, which included shirking his entire caseload and failing to report two felonies.

He used the time to go over the very few facts of the investigation into Kate's case, the one that had captured him in a way that none of its peers did. He knew the reason for that had to be the Bane factor. Never one to believe something without a shred of proof, he was operating under the assumption that his city's greatest nemesis was still alive.

The actual facts themselves were scarce; all he really knew for sure was that she was abducted on the very same day Bane, the very person who saved her from being assaulted barely two months prior, vanished into thin air. The more he thought about it, the more those two coincidences gnawed at him. It got to the point where he began wondering if they were even coincidences at all.

As he drew closer to his destination, he contemplated calling Jane and canceling their get-together. It was highly unprofessional to engage in such fraternization; he would never have even thought about doing such a thing just a few months prior. After weighing the pros and cons, he decided to go through with it, as he couldn't even remember the last time he had a drink.

"Hey," Jane welcomed her guest.

"Hey yourself," Will replied.

"Come on in. The kitchen's just this way," Jane said as Will followed behind.

"Nice place."

"If you say so. Let's see, I've got vodka, tequila, beer," Jane listed the beverage contents of her refrigerator.

"That's quite the arsenal you're packing. Are you an alcoholic or something?"

"No, smart ass! I picked all this up earlier since I forgot to ask you what you like to drink. So go ahead; pick your poison."

"Is a vodka tonic within the scope of achievement?"

"Uh, how about a vodka sans tonic?"

"Sounds great. On the rocks?"

"Please tell me you have good news," Jane implored while preparing her guest's drink of choice.

"Well, I have news, but it's not good."

"Oh God! Is she…"

"No. I mean…I don't know. I have reason to believe that Kate may have been taken by a person or persons with ties to the terrorists."

"What?!"

"Kyle said the man who took her was equipped with an automatic weapon. Now that's far from proof positive, but I think it's more probable than not given the circumstances at that time."

"That doesn't make any sense. What would they want with Katie?"

"Perhaps the question is not why **they** wanted her, but why **he** wanted her."

"Huh?"

"I think it's entirely possible that Bane knew Kate in some capacity. That would explain why he intervened during her attempted rape. It would also explain why she was taken on the very day he disappeared."

"No way. If she knew him, she would've told me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because…we were friends. I know her."

"You knew her for a couple of months, Jane. You even said that she didn't reveal much of anything in regard to her personal life."

"Look, she had a hard life, and she didn't want to talk about it. But if she knew the bastard who was trying to kill us all, she wouldn't have just glossed over that. She wouldn't have kept something that big from me, she just wouldn't have."

"She would have every reason in the world to keep that from you. You were her only friend; she wouldn't want to jeopardize that by admitting that she had a connection to him."

"You're wrong. You are so wrong!"

"Look, I know she was your friend…"

"Don't talk about her in the past tense!"

"I know she is your friend, but I think your inherent desire to protect her is clouding your judgment."

"My desire to protect her? I'm the one who got her into this mess to begin with! If it weren't for my unbelievable stupidity, she'd still be here!" Jane protested.

"You're racked with guilt over her disappearance, which is why you cannot possibly see her in any light other than a positive one. You feel the need to insist that this woman you barely knew was practically a saint because you blame yourself for what's happened to her."

"And you're trying to demonize someone who's been kidnapped, someone who can't even defend herself from your insane accusations!"

"I'm not demonizing her in any way."

"You could've fooled me."

"You've misconstrued what I've said."

"Well, how about you spell it out for me then?"

"I'm not insinuating that Kate was an accomplice. All I'm saying is that it is **possible** that they may have known one another."

"And I'm telling you it's not."

"Like I said, it's just a theory."

"Sounds to me like the only one you're running with."

"I have to consider every possibility, Jane."

"I've got another possibility for you. Care to hear it?"

"I'm all ears."

"Maybe he just didn't want to see a helpless woman raped. Have you ever thought of that?"

Jane continued before he could answer.

"Here's another viable theory: Maybe she reminded him of someone he knew. Maybe when he saw that piece of shit on top of her, he thought of his mother. Or his sister. Or maybe even an old love."

"That's a possibility as well."

"So with all of those possibilities, why are you insisting on smearing an innocent person by implying that she had something to do with the man who tried to blow us all to smithereens?"

"I'm not…"

"Listen to me," Jane interrupted him. "When Katie told me about what happened to her, she was a wreck, she was totally off guard. If she knew him and was keeping it from me, she would've let it slip then. I'm sure of it," Jane argued before sipping her drink.

"This is pointless; we're just going in circles here. I think I should go," Will declared before resting his drink on the coffee table.

"That's probably a good idea," Jane agreed.

After walking him to the door, Will attempted to make amends.

"Look Jane, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Yeah, well, you did."

"I'm just trying to my job here."

"Fine, but don't expect any help from me with this insane theory of yours."

"Jane…"

Before he could finish his sentence, she slammed the door in his face.

**Location: Gotham City  
Date: February 27, two weeks after liberation**

Will showed up at the office at nine sharp the following morning. Determined to correct at least one of his errors, he spent the entire morning brushing up on the particulars of the missing person investigations he had all but abandoned since the day he first heard the news of Jane Mitchell's missing acquaintance. Shortly after Will arrived at the office, a figure loomed over him and cast a shadow on his cluttered desk.

"Well, well, if it isn't my long-lost detective," a voice announced.

"Lieutenant. Good morning."

"Would you mind telling me where in the hell you've been for the past week?"

"I was out following leads."

"Interesting. Tell me, which of your cases has rendered you so busy that you couldn't even make it into the office once last week?"

"I've been following leads on all of my cases."

"Excellent. So you won't mind briefing me on a few of these leads then, will you?"

"Right now, sir?"

"Right now, Detective."

Will awkwardly fumbled through the mountain of paperwork that had amassed on his desk during his absence.

"Don't know where to start?" asked Elliott.

"I seem to be a bit unorganized at the moment. My apologies, Lieutenant."

"That's what happens when you take nearly a week off without notice. Tell you what; how about I make it easier for you? Let's start with the Anderson case. What can you tell me about that one?"

"Well, Mr. Anderson has been missing since…December 9 of last year. His wife, Julie, reported him missing two days after liberation. He has been employed by the Gotham Transit Authority for the past three years. He and Mrs. Anderson have been married for six years; they have no children."

"Is that it?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm not sure what more you want."

"I want your leads on Anderson, not his biography."

Will began searching his desk for the Anderson file, but was interrupted by Elliott's voice.

"What are you looking for?"

"The Anderson case file, I know it's around here somewhere."

"You haven't been here for days, so why do you think you're going to find any the information I've requested in his file?"

"Yeah, uh, it's just that it's like I said…I've been investigating all of my cases, and I'm afraid my thoughts may be a little muddled right now. I just want to make sure I've got all the facts straight."

"Stop it. You're embarrassing yourself, and you're insulting my intelligence."

"Sir?"

"We both know you don't know a God damn thing about Anderson other than what you've just recited from memory. I'm going to ask you again, and this time, I want the truth. Where have you been, Will?"

"All right," Will relented. "I have this little side project that occupied me for a few days."

"It seems that something very important has escaped your mind, so allow me to remind you. You work for the Missing Persons Division of the Gotham Police Department. If you want to work on side projects, you do it on your own time. As long as you're cashing the paychecks written by this department, you're sure as hell going to earn them. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"And if I ever catch you lying to me again, you will spend the remainder of your career writing traffic tickets. Get the picture?"

"Yes, sir."

With his superior's rancorous decree resonating in his mind, Will resumed his work. Elliott had every right to rip him a new one, as Will was guilty of negligence towards his other cases; his lieutenant's excoriation of him was well-deserved. Determined to get back on track, he worked all morning and through lunch getting up to speed. Just after one o'clock, he caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. He practically leapt from his chair and made a beeline to her.

"Jane. What are you doing here?"

"I want to talk about the case."

"Listen, I'm really busy this morning. Why don't you just go home for now, and I'll call you later?"

"I want to speak to another detective."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want to get another set of eyes and ears on this, since yours are obviously faulty right now."

"You can't just demand another investigator because you dislike where the investigation leads," Will said as he attempted to stifle Jane. "I'm not denying that the evidence we have is both minimal and circumstantial, but considering that it's all we have to go on at this point, I'm inclined to follow my gut."

"Fine, knock yourself out with that. In the meantime, I want to talk to someone else."

"Jane, this is neither the time nor the place," he said as he began to usher her out of the station.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Do not make a scene in here. Just wait until we get outside, and I'll explain."

Once they were outside, Jane let him have it.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jane asked loudly.

"I don't have much time, so listen to me very carefully. I'm in hot water with my lieutenant right now, and the reason for that is that I've neglected my entire caseload in order to investigate your friend's disappearance, so the last thing I need is you giving me a hard time."

"That's even more reason to get someone else in on this. Now, if you don't mind," Jane said as she started back towards the station.

Will stepped in front of her and stopped her dead in her tracks.

"What the fuck is your problem? Why are you so dead set against me discussing the case with anyone other than you?"

"Because I never filed the fucking report, that's why!" Will admitted.

"What?" Jane asked in disbelief.

"It was an innocent oversight."

"How could you just forget something so important?!"

"Look, it doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't mean anything?! Of course it does! You're telling me that no one in your department even knows about this besides you?!"

"She's just not in the system, that's the beginning and end of it."

"You are unbelievable, you know that?" Jane said as she tried to get around him.

"If you report this, I will lose my job, Jane! Is that really what you want?"

"I want to find Katie! That is the only thing care about right now! If you lose your job, it's your own fault."

"Jane, please don't do this to me. I beg you."

"I can't believe this!" Jane broke down and came to a halt.

"Listen to me, all right. I understand your concern, I do. But nothing's changed, Jane. I'm still going to work Kate's case."

"You working on the case part-time, which is code for whenever the fuck you feel like it, isn't enough! You're asking me to accept less just so you don't get in trouble. How fucking selfish are you?"

"Selfish? I bent my own rules for your friend, for you. If it weren't for me, no one, and I do mean no one, would be looking for her. Sure, she'd be in the system, but she would be just one more folder in a stack of hundreds. I have dedicated nearly every minute of my life the last two weeks trying to find her, and this is how you repay me?!"

"You didn't even file the God damn report, Will! If you could be so careless in such an important regard, how in the hell can you expect me to trust you anymore?!"

"I know I may not be your favorite person right now, but you know that I am still your absolute best hope of finding Kate. If you go in there and tell them all this, I'll be fired. Not only will you screw me, you'll screw yourself and your friend's best chances of being recovered. Is that truly what you want?"

"You know just what to say, don't you?"

"I've really got to get back in there before my lieutenant notices my absence. Please, just go home, and I'll call you after my shift's over."

"Fuck!"

"I know it may be hard right now, but you've got to trust me, Jane. We can work all of this out if you just trust me. I'm on your side, I swear to you."

"I don't want you to call me. I want you to meet me at Amico's at exactly six o'clock. If you don't show, I'm calling the station."

"I'll be there."

"You'd better," Jane said before storming off.

The gravity of the situation hit Will more and more with each passing hour. He was playing a dangerous game, the odds of which were stacked against him. Jane's hostility was a threat to his career, his very livelihood. If he could not get back into her good graces, she could very well ruin the life he had spent the last ten years building. He simply could not allow that to happen, so to that end, he left the office promptly at 5:30 in order to meet her ultimatum.

The waitress noticed his entrance immediately and was at their table as soon as he sat down in the booth across from Jane.

"Would you like to hear our specials today?" she asked cheerfully.

"Uh, no thanks. I'll just have a coffee, black."

"Coming right up."

"I'm going to ask you a very serious question, and I need you to answer me honestly," Jane said as she stared vacantly into the cup of coffee before her.

"Fire away."

"Are you on the level?"

"What exactly does that mean, Jane?"

"Why are you so determined to keep this under wraps? Are you hiding something from me?"

"I told you, I'm on my lieutenant's radar right now, and he's not exactly what you would call the understanding, forgiving type. All it takes is one more screw-up, and it's all over. My entire career obliterated, and for what? Because I didn't fill out a piece of paper?"

"Exactly how many screw-ups do you have, Will?"

"My record is nearly spotless, save the past two weeks when I was in dereliction of duty because I spent nearly all of my time, on the clock and off, looking for your friend."

"I just don't get what you gain by not filing the report. Please explain it to me."

"I gain nothing from not filing it. But ever since you told me about Kate's connection to Bane, I haven't been able to shake it."

"Aside from that one isolated incident, there is no connection."

"My suspicion only grew stronger after Kyle's testimony. Right now, you are absolutely incapable of objectivity in this regard because of your own remorse. I could be 100 percent wrong, as you believe, but I cannot just sweep two very glaring coincidences under the rug, Jane. What kind of a cop would I be if I could do that?"

"Kyle told you she was kidnapped by some armed thug. You're acting like she held his fucking hand and skipped her way to that van willingly!"

"I'm not. Like I said, it's just one theory of several that I have right now."

"I still think you should file the report. At least that way you'd have more time to work the case."

"No, I wouldn't. Typical shift runs eight hours, and I have eight cases. That means an hour per day per case, max. Kate's would make the ninth; I'd have hardly any time at all."

That's all the more reason to file the report and give the case to another detective."

"No one's going to make a missing stripper their top priority. Those were your words to me the other day, and you hit the nail on the head, sorry to say. In addition, since you're not a relative, I'd be filing the report fraudulently."

"That sure as hell didn't seem to bother you at the get-go."

"Well, it does now that I'm on my boss's shit list."

"So what are you going to do? Moonlight as a private eye without pay?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"Speaking of money, my little nest egg is getting smaller and smaller every day. I need to find a job and fast."

"What kind of job are you looking for?"

"One that pays my bills."

"I hope you're not considering going back to stripping."

"It's crossed my mind. There aren't many jobs that pay as good with no prerequisites."

"I know it may be none of my business, but I strongly urge you to try for other work first. You should make that your very last resort. Have you ever worked in any other capacity?"

"I was a secretary for a while, but the pay sucked, so I quit."

"I'll give you a reference if you want."

"Seriously?"

"I'll tell your prospective employers that you were the best secretary I've ever had and that you'd still be working for me if it weren't for budget cuts."

"Is this a bribe?"

"No, Jane, it's a favor. Christ, are you going to be suspicious of every single thing I say or do from now on?"

"I don't know. It's probably not a bad idea."

"You act as if I've betrayed your trust when I've done anything but. I told you the truth, didn't I?"

"Yeah, right before I was about to bust you."

"Look," Will sighed, "I'm going to Pittsburgh this weekend to visit my kids, and I'd rather not spend that time worrying about whether or not I'll have a job waiting for me when I get back."

"Relax, all right. I'm not going to say anything."

"Well, that's a relief if you mean it."

"Yes, I mean it. What about the footage from the club? You never said anything more about it. Were you able to ID the…perpetrator?"

"No. You were right; it was a waste of time. That's another aspect of the case I failed to mention to my lieutenant, by the way."

"What?"

"I never reported the rapist's murder."

"Christ, what didn't you forget?!"

"I didn't forget. It was more of an intentional omission."

"Really? You were so gung-ho about reporting it. Why'd you change your mind?"

"I don't know, really. I guess, in the end, I thought it was pointless. He got what he deserved, why unnecessarily drudge up something that doesn't have to be?"

"Seems like you're breaking quite a few of your own rules lately."

"Yeah. So you can understand why I'm a little paranoid right now."

"It's been two weeks now, and we're no closer to finding her now than we were at the start. All we have so far, according to you, is that she was kidnapped, maybe by Bane's men. So what do we do now?"

"We wait. That's all we can do."

"For what?"

"To see how this whole thing plays out. The key to this mystery may very well be Bane. The sooner we find him, the sooner we find out what happened to Kate. In the meantime, I need you to work with me on this, not against me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

"We're doing everything humanly possible to find her, Jane. You know that."

"When will you be back?"

"Monday."

"I need a printout of her ID photo."

"Why?"

"I can't just sit back and do nothing. I want to put up some flyers. I'm not asking you; I'm telling you, so don't try to talk me out of it."

"I wasn't going to. On the contrary, I think it's a good idea."

"We're all she has now, Will. You can't give up. Please promise me you won't give up."

"I promise."

**Author's Note:** **So there we have two consecutive Gotham chapters. It seems Will and Jane have had enough of each other for now, so I'm going give them a break come the next chapter. After 21 chapters, we are about to get to the heart of the story; the long-awaited romance I promised. As eager as I am to finally get there, I'm not going to rush it, as I think that would significantly weaken the story.**

**I plan for the next chapter to be a significant turning point in terms of the evolving relationship of the main characters, so I hope you all stay tuned for what's to come. I want to again thank all of you for the outpouring of support you gave me when I was considering abandoning the story. After all, it's you lovely people that make this all worthwhile; your enthusiasm is what keeps me writing :)**


	25. Chapter 22

_Every day felt like a week; every week like a month; every month like a year. All he could think about was the pain, his constant companion. He swore he even felt it in his brief bouts of sleep. Each day he heard death's call, and each day the beckoning grew stronger. He yearned for it as a drowning man would for a life boat._

_Talia had been gone for nearly three weeks. He had lost all sense of time just after the second week of their campaign of torture. Confined to his poor excuse for a bed due to extensive back injuries, he languished for days on end. He drifted in and out of consciousness, waking from the pain and when the pit's debauched residents decided he had enough of a break from their perverse amusement. Their hatred for him was almost tangible. They delighted in stripping him of every last shred of dignity. They beat him, they cut him, and they humiliated him for what seemed to him like an eternity. Their ringleader was none other than Héctor, the irascible inmate whom Bane had defeated in combat years before. He derived immeasurable pleasure from his rival's prolonged suffering._

_Héctor always announced his presence by whistling. He whistled the same irritating tune incessantly, never deviating from it. Even insignificant things like that made Bane's blood boil. He made a solemn vow to himself that if he managed to escape Héctor and his cohorts, he would make them pay with their wretched lives._

"_¡Mira!" ordered Héctor as he shoved the makeshift mirror before the young man's mutilated face. "You ain't so pretty anymore, boy," he followed his scathing comment with a laugh._

_Bane attempted to turn away, but Héctor jerked his head back and forced him to look at his reflection. The lower portion of his face had been reduced to little more than a bloody, mangled mass of deep lacerations. The pain from those wounds had long dulled; it was that which emanated from his broken back that plagued him day and night._

_The boor let out a sadistic cackle before setting the crude section of glass back onto the wall of Bane's cell. He then hurled a small bucket of water on his victim to make sure he didn't drift off. Bane immediately stirred and gasped for breath as he tried to expel the water from his nose and mouth._

_"Do you know the difference between you and me?" Héctor asked as he approached Bane, who didn't give his tormentor the satisfaction of a response._

_"The difference," he began as he sharpened a crude shank, "is that I understand where power comes from, its true origins, if you will. Power doesn't come from money or muscles. It comes from control. I learned this lesson early on, long before I ended up here. And I never forgot it. How do you control a person? First you take everything they have from them, and then you give it all back. I have hundreds of men at my command, and I count each and every one of them a friend. How many friends have you made? Let's see . . . a feeble old man, a whore, and her bastard. You didn't choose your allies wisely. And as you've recently learned, those who are not your friends are your enemies. Did you really think you would always be safe? Did you really think brute strength alone would be your salvation?"_

_Héctor paced back and forth in the small cell as he recited his monologue. Knowing another attack was imminent, Bane followed his foe's every move and braced himself for the inevitable._

_"You know why you're here. You know why I'm doing this. But it is you who put yourself in this position, make no mistake about that. You may be wondering why I'm telling you all this. I tell you because I want you to see the error of your ways. Most of my friends weren't always my friends. I had to break some of them first to make them realize the errors of their ways. And now, I do the same for you," Héctor revealed as he sat on the side of Bane's bunk._

_"I've taken everything from you. But I could give it all back. I'd be willing to, but only if you give me something in return."_

_After a minute of silence, Héctor resumed speaking._

_"I understand it may be hard for you to talk," Héctor said before reaching out his hand to the broken man that lay before him._

_"By taking my hand, you will swear an oath to me. You will be absolved of all past transgressions. No additional harm will come to you. I will even have Guillermo tend to your wounds."_

_After staring down his adversary, Bane launched a combination of spit and blood right at Héctor's straggly face. Sweet satisfaction overcame him when he realized he had hit his target. Rather than flying into an uncontrolled rage, Héctor calmly wiped the vermillion mixture from his face and emitted a throaty laugh._

_"I always knew you were stupid, but I didn't know you were crazy."_

_Héctor closely examined the gashes in Bane's face._

_"Your wounds seem to be healing. I don't like that."_

_Héctor unsheathed his blade and buried the shank in Bane's left cheek and twisted it several times. Bane screamed in agony as the scourge of his existence giggled in glee._

_"I think it's time you had some company."_

_He then whistled for his gang of torturers. At their master's behest, a handful of them filed into the cell, as many as the small space permitted. They exulted in doling out their enemy's punishment, one of the worst of his young life. The misery inflicted upon his desecrated body that night was light years beyond excruciating._

Though he was far removed from them by time, the ghastly memories of that deep, dark hole had left their marks on him both physically and mentally. The flashbacks struck without warning. If he eluded them during consciousness, they most always caught up with him in slumber. Whereas most people's dreams were hazy and fragmentary, Bane's were remarkably vivid and detailed. Many nights he relived his hellish past and would awaken in a cold sweat. That particular night happened to be one such instance.

The day marked exactly one month since Bane and his hostage had arrived at the bucolic lodge. Winter had finally surrendered to spring earlier that month, which abolished the need for fire and left the master of the house with one less task.

He often felt as if he were in prison all over again. The environment may have been worlds apart from the pit, but the end result was the same: He was trapped in an undesirable location for an extended period of time. Planning and strategizing had halted in favor of tedium and routine. He had underestimated the difficulty of the transition from perhaps the most active man on the planet to a veritable hermit, and he began to question his self-imposed exile as a result. At first he thought he would use the mandatory downtime to regroup and refocus, but as the days wore on, he felt further from his goal rather than closer. Deep down, he knew the course he had chosen was the most logical, so he begrudgingly accepted his retreat, though he resented it every waking moment.

As Talia's heir apparent, he had inherited the League by default. Her legacy was in his hands, and he was not about to dishonor her memory by squandering the second chance that seemed to be ordained by fate itself. But how was he to seize the reins when he was half a world away eluding the federal authorities? How could he bring Talia's plan to fruition without the benefit of communication and coordination with his men? How could he trust his comrades with the hefty reward looming over him like a dark cloud? As much as he hated to admit it, he would not be able to succeed on his own; he needed the League's manpower and resources to finish what they had started nearly seven years ago.

And then there was Barsad. Although Bane did not question his second's loyalty, his faith in the man's judgment had suffered substantially in the wake of his recent missteps. First there was Kate, who should never have been an issue in the first place. She had no skills or education, no strength or connections; her presence had not benefited their coalition in the least. She was a liability, not an asset.

Bane had spent much time trying to understand what had prompted Barsad, who was usually at the top of his game, to do something so senseless and out of character. After all, she was no one to him, just one person in a city of millions. He knew Barsad's initial excuse for his decision, her minor injury, was just that and a transparent one moreover. When he had proposed bringing her into the fold, Bane wasn't entirely opposed to the idea. Aside from Talia, there had never been a woman among the League's ranks, but Bane was, above all, a man of practicality. He knew that women possessed certain advantages their male counterparts lacked, and, with the proper conditioning, had the potential to become valuable commodities in their own right.

Barsad followed up his first fumble with yet another when he suggested enlisting the service of some anonymous federal consultant, a move that reeked of suspicion and ineptitude. The fact that he would even entertain such a perilous exploit left Bane more doubtful than ever.

As for Kate, her appearances were few and far between since the break-in. She had been holed up in her room for the past two weeks, emerging only for food, drink, and the bathroom. On the rare occasions he did encounter her, he noticed her verbosity had markedly decreased. She was withdrawn and clearly struggling with a bout of melancholy. Lately they seemed to share another commonality; insomnia. Her sleep disturbances were hardly a secret, as he could hear her every move due to the thin walls of their accommodations. She was up and down at all hours of the night as was he, though he mostly kept his distance and left her to her own devices. He supposed she could use some time alone.

As he lay in bed and longed for sleep, he heard her shriek. He disregarded it at first, chalking it up to a nightmare. But when he heard another, followed by yet another, he decided to check on her.

When he opened the door, he found her writhing violently under the bedding. He contemplated waking her, but thought the act may do more harm than good. He stood in the doorway and observed her for several minutes. When her cries intensified, he decided to intervene. He gently nudged her until she gasped and nearly dove out from under the blanket.

"You were calling out. You appeared to be in distress."

"What time is it?"

"A little after one."

"Did I wake you?"

"No. I woke about an hour ago."

"Let me guess? Late night workout?"

"It seems I have a touch of insomnia."

"Do you have any sedatives left?"

"A few."

"So there's your answer. Why don't you just take one?"

"I am not an enthusiast of artificially induced sleep."

"In that case, how about sharing?"

"It is a temporary solution that carries the potential to exacerbate the problem in the long run."

"Why do you have them then?"

"For emergencies."

"I haven't had a full night of sleep in weeks. Doesn't that count as an emergency?"

"When did this start?"

"Right after those ass . . . right after those guys broke in here."

"Modifying your language, I see."

"I've never heard you use profanity. I didn't think you'd approve."

"I cannot say your etiquette displeases me; I do find vulgarity rather unbecoming. Did your nightmare pertain to the invasion?"

"Maybe."

"It was an isolated incident. It's not going to happen again."

"I know."

Once again she noticed herself stealing peripheral peeks of him. Like always, he was clad in his trademark attire; black, long-sleeved shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots. There wasn't a day she could recall him in anything other than the familiar getup, and she often wondered if he slept in it for good measure. She also pondered what he looked like beneath his menacing façade, as well as why he donned it in the first place.

Unbeknownst to Kate, Bane also made use of his peripheral vision. Letting his imagination run away with him, he speculated how she would react to his touch. Would she recoil in fear? Disgust? Or would she reciprocate? If she accepted him, would it be simply out of fear of how he would react in response to rejection? He silently denounced himself for entertaining such pointless thoughts. He knew the reason for such untoward ideas was nothing more than prolonged sexual deprivation. He had not experienced release in over three years. He never considered self-gratification an option, as he deemed the action an adolescent endeavor and thus beneath him. In light of the newfound impetus, however, he wondered if it might be prudent to reevaluate his view on the subject.

"How are your hands?"

"Fine. Your eye has also healed nicely."

"That was the first time I've ever been punched in the face. An experience I could've done without, to be honest."

"I should have been quicker. It would not have gotten that far if I had been."

"I don't know…you were pretty quick. It only seemed like seconds before you…"

"I was still too late."

"If you were too late, I'd be dead," she reassured him.

"Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Tell people what you think they wish to hear?"

"No. It just seemed like you feel a little guilt about what happened."

"I feel no guilt. I was simply giving you an honest assessment."

"I couldn't help but notice you always wear that brace on your hand. What happened?"

"The catalyst was an injury I sustained many years ago. Now it serves as more of a preventive measure."

"And the mask?"

"The same, more or less."

"And here I thought it was only for aesthetics."

"It serves a very practical purpose."

"What is that?"

"It delivers a necessary supply of a powerful anesthetic."

"So it's sort of like a high-tech oxygen mask?"

"Without the oxygen. Fortunately my breathing capabilities remain functional."

"May I?" Kate asked as she extended her hand.

Since he did nothing to discourage her, she scooted towards him in order to study the unique covering. It was as close as she had ever been to him save her emotional episode on the heels of the intrusion two weeks prior. She extended her right hand and touched the strange device. It was cold and hard, a perfect metaphor for its owner. One by one, she traced the tubes with her fingertips, which were by that time rather unsteady.

"How does it work?"

"The medicine is transmitted through the tubes. There is a mouthpiece inside from which I inhale."

"So you don't feel any pain at all?"

"Some, but it's very dull. It's something I've become accustomed to."

Before she knew what was happening, her hand seemed to develop a mind of its own. She knew she had gone mad as soon as the unruly extremity left the mask and began its journey farther south. Her petite digits inched their way from the mask to his neck where they landed on his carotid artery. She could feel his heartbeat as well as her own, with the latter elevating in the wake of her impulsive gesture.

"Your heart…it beats so slow," she observed as she kept her fingers on his pulse.

Bane followed her lead. Slowly and delicately, he placed his hand, the same one which had easily crushed many a larynx in the past, on her slender neck, all the while hoping she wouldn't retract in consternation.

"Yours is racing. Are you anxious?" he asked dulcetly.

"Maybe a little."

"Are you afraid I'm going to suddenly attack you like some rabid animal?"

"No. You've saved my life twice. I don't pretend to know why, but I can't say it displeases me."

His hand lingered on her pulse point, and a rush of warmth enveloped her from head to toe. She didn't know exactly what was happening, but whatever it was, it was oddly comforting. Her heart rate accelerated, and by that time, she was sure it was audible. Time seemed to come to a halt. The only perceptible sounds were their breathing, his obviously more pronounced due to his facial enhancement.

As he caressed her neck ever so gently, he observed her countenance, searching for the first sign of uneasiness. The feel of his touch, of his skin upon hers, excited her in ways she could not have anticipated. Her longing for him was due neither to fear, nor intimidation, nor an aspiration to gain his favor. At that moment, she was genuinely attracted to him on every conceivable level. He was dangerous and forbidden, his body was a monument of virility, and although she had never seen his full face, she had a feeling it was just as exquisite as the rest of him.

Her conscience screamed in opposition, but she ignored it. Her preconceived notions instantly vanished; her omnipresent fear desisted with just one touch of his hand, which was rough, yet soft at the same. She mustered up every ounce of intrepidity within her and brought her right hand from his neck down to his broad chest. His eyes left hers momentarily and fixated on the hand resting between his pectorals. A woman's touch was a far cry from the physical exchanges he was used to.

It was clear to her that he didn't hate what she was doing; if he did, he surely would have voiced his objection. Her body shifted almost involuntarily, and she slowly reduced the distance between them, daringly trailing her hand over his firm chest, which was toned, but not to a ridiculous degree.

Though he relished the feel of her touch, he got back on his feet, which resulted in the breaking of their contact. Underneath his ruthless reputation and seeming invincibility, he was a human being burdened by human desires. At his core, he was just a man. The seeds of his attraction had been sown the night he delivered her from disaster back in Gotham. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and coexisting with her in such close proximity for 30 days only bolstered his desire. He didn't know what had precipitated her inexplicable boldness, but he would be lying if he said the change disagreed with him.

With his departure from the bed, the magnitude of Kate's faux pas sank in. She had crossed the line, taken a chance, and it had backfired. She didn't even know what she was doing or what it meant, if anything at all. She had been driven solely by an overwhelming need for human contact, and that need caused her to take leave of her senses. She had miscalculated, and paid for her error in humiliation. In a last ditch effort to save face, she resorted to an apology.

"I'm sorry. That was really stupid. I don't even know what that was about."

In a bid to bring her unnecessary apology to an end, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her head upwards, hoping she would look at him.

"There is no need for contrition," he avowed while brushing his thumb lightly over her chin.

She lifted her eyes from the floor and looked at him.

"I don't understand."

Though he found her voice quite pleasant, he was tired of talking. He wanted to show her what he meant as opposed to telling her. He ran his hand down her cheek and rested it on her shoulder. Wary of overstepping his bounds, he assessed her demeanor. When she rose from the bed and closed the gap between them, he knew all he needed to.

Relieved she had not made a complete fool of herself, she picked up where she had left off and returned her right hand to his chest. The left one soon followed suit. She started at the top just below his neck and methodically worked her way down and then back up again.

He returned her courtesy and positioned his right hand lightly at her waist. His touch was intoxicating. He moved closer to her until their bodies were united in contact. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck and planted a succession of feathery pecks there and on his collarbone. She parted her lips and tasted his taut, delicious flesh as her hands grew more adventurous, navigating their way underneath the bottom opening of his black, form-fitting shirt, the one that hugged his mountainous physique to perfection. When her hands reached the upper portion of his chest, his skin was rough and uneven, the residual effects of the artillery blast he endured courtesy of Bruce Wayne's insidious sidekick.

When she looked up at him, she sensed a hint of reservation on his part.

"I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

"No. But I feel I should prepare you for what lies beneath. It isn't what one would deem appealing."

Unfazed by his needless caveat, her hands continued their exploration of his wondrous torso. His flesh was warm and tantalizing. His hands caressed her back ever so gently, and she pressed her body to his in a show of approval. Reason and logic went out the window. All their lives, their desires had been thwarted for one reason or another. They had been denied for far too long. That night, they would forget the world and just enjoy one another.

Suddenly his hands became as adventurous as hers, leaving her waist and traveling upwards, first to her midsection and then her bosom. He groped her ample breasts with both hands while she tilted her head back in sheer exuberance. If there was ever a time he resented the mask, it was that moment, for he would have infinitely enjoyed enclosing her buxom breasts in his mouth. Coping feels were not cutting it; he needed to get rid of her shirt.

Beating him to the punch, she tugged his shirt upwards. He lifted it over his head and tossed it to the floor. The scars were numerous and profound, but they failed to diminish her arousal in the least. In an effort to prove as much, she showered his exposed upper body with soft, sensuous kisses while he made good use of his hands, trailing them softly up and down her back.

She could no longer think. She was completely overwhelmed by a desperate, all-consuming need as he strategically placed one hand on her shoulder and lightly rubbed it, freeing said shoulder from the strap of her shirt in the process. Eager to take things to the next level, she mimicked his action and liberated her chest from its sole constraint.

Sliding his hands from her torso to her legs, he directed her snug black yoga pants, along with her panties, which didn't exactly exude sex, down her lengthy gams, savoring their silkiness along the way. He beheld her nude form, the embodiment of his fantasy, in all her glory. It was almost too much to comprehend. He knew he didn't deserve the vision that stood before him, but he wasn't about to waste one second trying to figure it out. He tenderly massaged her sumptuous breasts while easing her back to the bed. She watched him disrobe as she propelled herself towards the head of the bed.

His footwear was the first to go. He then unbuckled his belt and removed his pants and underclothes in one fell swoop. The sight of his bulging erection set her ablaze. His appendage was magnificent; the length was more than impressive, and it was thoroughly engorged. She patiently awaited the arrival of his glorious physique atop her.

He climbed onto the bed and began his ascent. Once he was on top of her, he propped himself up with his massive arms, careful not to put too much weight on her. They looked into one another's eyes for a few seconds.

"If this is not what you want, tell me, and I will stop," he said softly, the mask grazing her cheek as he spoke. "It will not anger me, you need not fear."

She looked at him and traced the outlines of the mask. She gazed into his eyes, those captivating blue-gray orbs.

"Please don't stop," she assured him in a prurient whisper that excited him beyond belief.

He fingered her vaginal orifice in order to gauge the precise level of her stimulation. He was thrilled to find her thoroughly saturated, a welcome sign indeed. He inserted a finger between her rosy folds and pampered her clitoris for several minutes. He followed that up with tending to her breasts once again. Her nipples hardened in blissful delight in response to the attention he lavished upon them.

Her heated core tingled in feverish anticipation of penetration. She subtly unfurled her legs in invitation, and he eased into her. She panted in both pain and pleasure. The two years of sexual inactivity had left her pelvic muscles weak and tender. Fully aware his girth could be overwhelming, he held still to give her time to adjust. He peered down at her to make sure she was comfortable.

Once she expanded enough to accommodate his size, he rocked his hips against hers and delivered a series of thrusts, each one more intense than the last. She was no virgin, but she never felt anything even close to this during any of her past sexual experiences. Just when she thought she would explode, he took her higher. Reaching their respective climaxes simultaneously was her ideal, but she knew she wouldn't last much longer. She nearly came during the oral titillation he generously provided just a few minutes before.

He reveled in the joyous manipulation of her body. She dug her nails into his back as he drove his manhood into her again and again. On the brink of orgasm, she closed her eyes, gripped his body as tight as she could, and moaned jubilantly as she achieved rapture. Just as she reached the pinnacle of pleasure, he exited her and sprayed a viscid stream of warm cum upon her stomach. Her chest heaved and her legs trembled as they mutually basked in post-coital bliss for a several minutes.

Not wanting to collapse on top of her, he steadied himself before retreating to the bathroom. He returned with a hand towel. Surprised by his gentlemanly deed, she lay still as he gently cleaned the ejaculate from her abdomen.

After wiping away the remnants of copulation, Bane collected his clothing and started to dress. Kate pulled the covers up over her and looked on as he clothed his resplendent body. She turned on the lamp and returned her attention to him. She was taken aback by a jarring sight; a prominent scar that began at the base of his neck and extended down his entire spine. Not wanting to provoke awkwardness or self-consciousness in him, she submitted to silence instead.

Once he finished dressing, he reached into one of his pants pockets. He placed the small blue pill in the palm of her hand, using the opportunity to feel her one more time.

"Remember, it's just a temporary fix."

"Thank you."

He made his way to the door and grabbed his boots along the way. After his quiet exit, she settled into a comfortable position and waited for the pill to take effect. Far too exhausted to analyze what had just transpired, she cleared her mind as her eyelids grew heavier with each blink. Within minutes, she was out like a light.

In his quarters, Bane readied himself for bed. The exertion left him somewhat drained, and he hoped for a sufficient nap. As he waited for sleep to conquer him, his last thought was of their rhapsodic rendezvous. Perhaps there was a silver lining to Barsad's blunder after all.

**Author's Note: It is with great pleasure that I give you the turning point of the story. I freely admit that one was the most challenging to write thus far. The buildup was quite extensive at 80,000 plus words. I really, really need your thoughts on how I did in this chapter. Honesty is always the best policy in my estimation. If I did not meet your expectations, I would like to know, as I would truly hate to disappoint any of you faithful readers. If such is the case, I kindly ask you to be precise in your critique. I would not at all be opposed to reworking a chapter if the general consensus calls for it.**

**As most of you are aware, my confidence was moderately shaken by that rude anonymous review. I do not have a problem with constructive criticism, the key word being "constructive." On the contrary, I am very receptive to it. What I do take offense at is unconstructive criticism (i.e., when someone posts something like "This story sucks"). Such non-descriptive commentaries are mean-spirited and serve only to hurt the author's feelings. I'm not saying that a reader isn't entitled to their opinion, but if a reader truly feels the need to post such an inflammatory remark, he/she should at least expound on the statement and provide some specificity as to why they hold that particular view. That way, the author can get a sense of the reason(s) for that particular reader's displeasure.**

**As for the story, I would like to make one thing crystal clear right off the bat. First of all, their first instance of sexy time does not, by any means, signify that either of them is in love. Oh no. Now is not the time for love, that comes later (see what I did there ;) Their relationship has to evolve a hell of a lot more before that emotion comes into play. As in most relationships, love is not immediate; it is like a flower that has to be nurtured in order to blossom. But fear not, as the seed has been planted, and we're definitely on that path.** **I would also love to include an appearance by John Blake in either this or another story, as I adored his character (and I love me some JGL). In fact, the character of Will was originally supposed to be Blake until I remembered he resigned from the force at the end of the movie. I'm not making any promises on that though, as I have no idea how I would incorporate him into the story. There's the Nightwing angle, but I feel like that would be too much to take on, at least at this point. We'll see.**

**In closing, I just want to thank you guys, or should I say gals, for your tremendous encouragement to keep going. I do wish I had more time to devote to this pursuit, but you all know too well that the demands of life sometimes get in the way. Nevertheless, I will do the best I can. I usually try to post a new chapter every week, but there will be times when I can only do every two weeks. Thank you all for taking time out of your busy lives to come and visit. Muah!**


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